Yea, you. What have you done for me lately? (Except for supplying me with life-sustaining oxygen.)
Fuckin’ nasopharyngeal canal. You didn’t get a cold all frickin winter (such as it was) - not even during March when it blizzarded like all-get-out.
Noooooo. You had to get a cold today. The night before my Linguistic Theory presentation, making me so woozy & miserable I could barely finish the outline. As it is, I’ll have to refer to the book every two seconds and hope my obvious viral suffering is enough to make people pity me (or at least not get too close).
Fuckin stress-induced immunity depression, guaranteeing you’ll get a cold during term-paper season that falls in the middle of an election campaign, when you can least afford to have one.
You also had to get a cold just before I meet two gorgeous gay Esperantists in an open marriage in the city for the weekend. You had BETTER be gone on Saturday so I can seduce them, dammit.
Fuckin nasopharynx. You BEHAVE, goddammit. Or I swear to Goddess I’ll trade you in for some gills.