Suddenly, we’re all on the fast track to the ebola virus. It’s lurking on every doorknob, countertop, coin, vending machine, keyboard, and telephone. Snap out of it, boys and girls. We’re at no greater risk now than we were last week or last month — probably. So don’t get your undies in a bunch.
Listen to me. You’d think I’m the voice of stability and reason. Hah, that’s a good one.
I just recovered from my own case of ebola yesterday. I’m a hypochondriac of legendary proportion, you see. What started out as a backache became a kidney infection, which blossomed into ebola, then kidney failure, then poisonous spider bites. My current diagnosis is shingles, and I’ve stuck with that one for, oh, about 7 hours now. I feel pretty confident, what with the pattern the ‘rash’ has taken and the ultra-sensitive skin and the angry red spots. Yep, shingles. Or leprosy.
The funny thing is, hypochondria is hip now. Everyone who’s anyone is terrified of catching the virus. People are refusing to go out in public, we’re keeping the kids home from school, avoiding public transportation and crowds, the whole nine yards. Meanwhile we smoke like tire fires, drink like fish, carry guns, piss off motorists going 70 mph, and pick fights in bars.
Wake up. Ebola isn’t going to get you, stoopidity is.
Never mind, ignore that last crack, you’re right. Ebola is what we need to fear. Need a light? How about I freshen that drink? Wanna go skydiving? While you’re waiting for ebola to come knocking, though, don’t forget to name Little Ittys as a beneficiary in your Last Will and Testament.
Thank you :o)