The New Enemy: Streptococcus
He takes up residence in your throat and puts you through agony every time you want to send something his way. He's visited virtually everyone, mostly in childhood years, but somehow I managed to avoid him until I was 24 years old.
How did he get there? I don't know. Maybe it's because every one of my co-worker's desks have looked like this for the past week:
Or maybe it's because I was too drunk to remember making out with someone on Saturday night:
Most likely, it came from some whiny little brat out in public:
So, to whomever is responsible for giving me strep throat, thanks. From now on, I should just walk around New York City like this:
Except the skirt. I could go without the skirt.