It's Friday, me gentle friends, and ole Quint has learned a few things since his last posting. Firstly, it turns out that I do not have the AIDS after all. A thousand apologies for scaring you, but apparently my self-diagnosis was a tad premature and the cause of my sickness was merely a nasty case of the 24 hour flu.
While it is common knowledge that I have been known to jump the gun from time to time, it is not something I'm proud of. But then again, I wouldn't be a man if I confessed my feelings, so therefore I shall not. If you are looking for someone to pour his heart out to you, I believe Oprah is on every day in the afternoon.
Secondly, no one of sound mind should bare-knuckle box Dingy Joe, as he currently has the AIDS. As much as I wish this knowledge was available to me prior to our bout of fisticuffs the other day, I am confident that I am impervious to the immunodeficiency disorder and my mind is at ease. You wish to know my secret, don't you? Well, I'll never tell.
Fine! I'll impart my wisdom to you. After all, I'm a drunk and I won't get around to securing a patent for my technique anyway. It's really quite simple and it amazes me that scientists haven't discovered the cure themselves.
If you want to avoid the AIDS - especially if said AIDS was acquired during a recent confrontation with a homeless man named Dingy Joe - the best way to keep the virus from ravaging your T-cells like Ted Bundy at a sorority house is to bathe in turpentine for 3 hours and make sure to scrub the cuts extra good!
I told you it wasn't complicated. And if you follow that with a long night of imbibement and hookers and you can be sure that 6 months from now you will be lesion free! Take my word for it. If ole Quint managed to avoid the AIDS this long, there's no way in hell you'll get it.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment