Ah-Choo!

I'm sick. I hate being sick. I'm a big, whiny baby when I'm under the weather.

The floors in my house are covered in dirty tissues. Food has a dull flavour. My head is killing me.

When I was kid, I liked being sick. My mother would make me toaster strudel, I'd watch TV all day uninterrupted by my brothers, consume mass quantities of red Kool Aid & have a cache of comics and magazines at my disposal.

Being sick as a adult sucks donkey balls! Last night, SB made me a hot chocolate w/ vodka whipped cream. And I think it cured me.

Oh Bother!

One of my favourite Walt Whitman quotes is "Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes." Right on, Walt! I consider being contrary a charming aspect of my personality. Please note I did not use the word "hypocritical", there is a world of difference.

My point is, and I do have one, I detest honey. It's vile bee vomit as far as I'm concerned. However, I use honey shampoo and conditioner, honey glycerin soap (both made by The Body Shop) and honey and orange peel body lotion (Burt's Bees). What gives, you may ask? I have no earthly idea, the shit works good.

And this from a woman that spent 20 minutes trying to open an organic lime soda juice thing, only to be revolted and threw it out because it tasted GOD DAMNED HONEY. *shudder* shock horror vomit.

I live you with another ode to Mr. Whitman via Homer J. Simpson "Damn you Walt freakin' Whitman. Leaves of Grass, my ass!"