In the summer of 1993, I had to get vaccinated against tuberculosis. The institution of higher learning I was planning to attend that fall required it as one of their conditions for being allowed to move into on-campus student housing. So I rolled up my sleeves and got my shot. Not merely because that doctor’s note was my golden ticket to the dorm, but also because I’m just a tad bit partial to not catching tuberculosis. Funny how there was nothing offensive or political about mandatory vaccination in 1993. Not that I’m implying anything. Just sayin’. 😉
Having been through this process as evidenced by the photographic display seen above, I deduce that the phrase Fauci ouchie is a misnomer. Not just because I’m Canadian, and hence slightly out of the good doctor’s jurisdiction (we have our own resident infectious disease expert who is likewise despised by certain alt-right whingebags for no good reason). Verily, there wasn’t much ouchie to speak of. That flu shot I got last November was actually way more painful than both COVID shots combined. Barely felt the needle go in either time. A slight tingly feeling in my arm for a day or so after each dose (not unlike something one would experience after getting a flu shot) was about the only physical assurance that I’d actually been injected with something.
Not one anti-vaxxer will give a speck of credence to the preceding paragraph. I’d bet the farm on that. But if Karen from Facebook is reading this, I got a question. Now that I’ve received the mark of the Beast, how do I go about activating my new satanic powers? I’m trying to harness the power of Mephistopheles to turn anything I want into crispy bacon using only my mind, but I can’t even get my eyes to do that thing where they glow red like the woodland Christmas critters off that old South Park episode…
Once upon a time, I travelled to a land far, far away in a mystical chariot with a built-in USB port. A land steeped in centuries-old tradition inhabited by benevolent bear-spirits who walk like men. They helped me slay that faceless snow monster who came after me for eating that Finnish hoagie sandwich. Don’t regret eating that sandwich one bit, though. It was magically delicious.
This is the foyer to the local hospital. How bitchin’ is that?
Five and ¾ Senses 