But I was a little under the weather. The long work weeks have been kicking my ass. I have been busy with closing down my accounting practice, working in the store and working on my new big project.
So I got really run down with a bad cold that had bad side effects. The wife forced me to go to the doctor and he gave me some anti-boitics and cough medicine. Since I have never taken anti-biotics they worked really well and destroyed the cold. The only problem is that it makes you drowsy and I had to rest.
I will be back in full mode on Friday.
Thank's for keeping the comment's section hopping while I was away.
24 comments:
more Thai food may help...
Rest and recover, Mighty Trooper!
Tularemia!
Which can lead to pneumonia.
Which means even the largest of jack rabbits needs to take care.
Yeah I had a touch of pneumonia so I had to take it easy.
I'm getting old.
Get well, Troop. We'll keep the home fires burning. Or maybe burn down the joint if any more flying saucers show up.
Feel better, Troop.
Super megadoses of Vitamin C. Injected straight to the heart. Pronto.
OK, I was kidding about straight to the heart.
But it couldn't hurt.
Get well soon, Trooper.
You were gone?
You didn't fall for it when McCoy said he needed to use the 'special' thermometer, did you?
Touched is better then tetched but when it comes to pneumonia, words like whacked, walloped, clobbered, flattened, and in some cases (1 of 20) laid out stone cold flat are more accurate.
It's good you went to see somebody.
Get well soon.
Get better Troop!
We love you.
tits.
Get better dude, read some books - assuming you can stay awake.
Re: Special Thermometers
With Tim still twitching about flying saucers, it's highly likely he made the mistake of thinking "special" meant "something exceptional just for me" when the aliens started waving that thing around.
The weather's here. Wish you were beautiful!
Get well Blogfather!
Mahalo!
I just shaved my cooch.
My vas defernans are glistening.
You could eat dindin off my vulva.
MamaM's off the deep end (again).
I just posted a long couple of comments about classical music, with a fair bit referring to old Vienna. Well, someone who was around with Mahler and the rest of the dead white men who wrote music there was Sigmund Freud. He would have had a field day with MamaM and her anal-sadistic (a good Freudian term) fantasies.
The flying saucer I saw was out of control and piloted by MamaM, in danger of crashing and sinking. Meanwhile, it was zapping things without much regard, which, while amusing to watch, had the potential to cause pointless harm.
I was thinking if the flying saucer came back, we could have a flame war here, which, of course, might damage Trooper's abode. Its rays proved ineffectual in the end, but who wants to risk setting the place on fire to prove it?
And you know, sometimes a death ray is just a death ray.
It's all in your head, Tim!
Find an orifice or two that will be receptive and calm yourself with something soothing.
It's all in your head, Tim!
Could be. But at least I don't share the sadistic fantasies in yours!
Be happy MamaM!
Hugs!
And tits!
I'm wondering how Lisa got him to stay put long enough to recover?
It's not like she could sit on his chest or some such thing.
And Titus? The latter was NOT a prescription for your dear father.
Chirp chirp.
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