I’ve just got to get this off my chest. My gurgley, bubbly, flem filled chest!
I fucking hate the flu! The sooner the boffins eradicate your sorry arse the better. You are a blight on my existence and I look forward to - one day - dancing on your fucking grave you malicious bastard!
And don’t think you days aren’t numbered, you sorry sack of shit! We have pretty much eradicated TB, smallpox is a distant memory and SARS didn’t live up to your expectations, did it asshole!
Your turn is coming, drool of Satan! Your days of infecting me on the eve of significant public holidays are soon to be over! Never more will I suffer the scorn and disbelief of my co workers by calling in sick on new years eve or on the day before my birthday. WTF is your problem anyway? It’s never… oh I dunno… the 2nd week of June or mid September is it you sick fuck!
I hope they keep a small sample of you in a petri dish somewhere. I’ll email you a picture of myself, in rude health, just before my holidays, birthday and new year. Maybe they’ll let me come visit now and then. Maybe if I slip them a few quid they’ll let me have a few minutes “alone” with you. Just you, me and Vic, my nasal decongestant. We’d enjoy that.