Yours truly has the HIV.
Not the real HIV mind you, but a deadly virus, just the same.
It’s that one that’s going around.
You know the one. The symptoms range between “Ohmigod, how can I be puking when I haven’t eaten?” and “Jesus Christ, how can I be pooing when I haven’t eaten?”
The virus lasts approximately four days, and death seems imminent.
I’ve spent a lot of time zonked on the couch or in bed, and more than one hour of activity completely wipes me out.
I haven’t even had the stamina to read more than a few pages of a book without feeling waxed and needing to pass out.
So this sickness leaves me with two activities between visits to the bathroom — sleeping or watching television.
Ahhh, television — the mindless medium.
After watching a few hours of it, I am now convinced TV actually requires negative imagination and actually makes viewers less intelligent.
Yesterday, for instance, I learned one now can get a tan airbrushed onto one’s body.
Great. Now we don’t have to develop melanoma to look nice in a bikini. Oh wait, wasn’t sunless tanner invented a few decades ago?
Now, you may think I learned this important fact on some crappy show like “Access Hollywood” or “Extra,” but this fascinating tidbit actually appeared on the local news. Some producer saw this story and screamed, “EUREKA! It’s the perfect feel-good closer to our important broadcast!”
Who gives a rip if the waterskiing squirrel is coming to Gonzales for an exhibition, or if Clay Henry, the singing Subway firefighter, gave a talk at a local weight-loss meeting?
It seems that our local news stations vastly underestimate our intelligence.
They spend half an hour telling us in 30-second bites how we should duct tape our windows in preparation for Armageddon, our politicians are going to the slammer, there’s a rapist on the loose, we’re having rotten weather, the home team lost the big game and then finally close the show with Buffy the tap-dancing poodle working a four-night gig at the local casino.
Thank God we’re informed.
Other than the news, my days are filled with rotten daytime soaps.
Here is a sample of dialogue from one of these impressively written, not to mention entertaining, pieces:
Woman: “Oh, Jack! My heart pounds when you hold me like that. If only that evil Tony didn’t want to kidnap our baby!”
Man: “I know, darling, but don’t worry. I’ll capture him tonight behind the bar and give him the drugs I got from Dr. Scott. He won’t be able to hurt us when I send him on that cargo barge to Paris!”
Nothing is ever easy on a soap. Instead of killing the bastard, they drug him and ship him off to France.
But, after watching enough of the local news, I’d almost prefer the soaps.