As I'm sitting here writing this post tonight, I am sick as a dog with some form of plague I caught from a co-worker. Yes, I'm just as thrilled as humanly possible to be turned into a big pile of whiny goo by a virus. Unfortunately, my ever-patient wife has to deal with the whiny part. Pity her now for it really is that bad. If you don't believe me, I'm pretty sure every important woman in my life from my mother forward has had to deal with me whining "I don't feel good" and making the pouty face from under a blanket. God bless them all for not executing me on the spot and God bless my wife even more for loving me enough to moderately indulge her overgrown man-child of a spouse when he's pitiful.
Since I'm couch bound for a bit, my mind had the opportunity to roll over this whole Ebola situation. I'm not going to bother rehashing the whole mess for you but I will say this: we as a country have handled this situation about as well as a compulsively masturbating monkey with access to a big tub of peanut butter. Go on ahead and wrap your mind around that image for a second, then tell me I'm wrong.
Now granted we've, as a nation, pushed it together around the edges and are working to contain the risk. I've been just as critical as everyone else has of the way the administration has hackneyed through this, but what irritates me even more is the way in which so many people are convinced this is the first stage of the zombie apocalypse.
Do I think we can screw this up and end up with a major problem on our hands? Definitely. Remember that just about every movie you've ever seen about an outbreak / zombies has started out with some dude in a white coat stating that everything is under control! Is it likely, no. Do we need to calm the hell down a bit as a nation? Absolutely.
Just to be safe though, I might recommend staying away from major cities, sharpening those katanas and machetes, and investing in that hi-capacity shotgun. After all, I do not intend on gettin' my ass taken out by a zombie infected by some virus that looks like a flaccid penis.
Seriously.
So until and unless it becomes apparent that we're all heading down Ebola Avenue, let's just take a deep breath of the uninfected for now air and settle down a bit.
And with that, I'm going back to my Nyquil. Later kids.
No comments:
Post a Comment