Or, more to the point, I need healthcare reform NOW! See, that's because I've been projectile vomiting for the last hour and a half. Because I eat some foods I still like, see. And my gallbladder? The one with all the gallstones? Yeah, my gallbladder is kinda pissed that I still have a relationship with pizza.
Actually, my gallbladder is really, really pissed. The doctor needs to remove it. I need to have some surgery, see.
And I should probably stop eating pizza.
This is not fun. You have no idea how not fun this is. The details are much too graphic and awful for words. I think it's safe to say that I don't care for projectile vomiting. If there was a ballot initiative on the subject, I'd most definitely vote against it.
Can I get my much-needed surgery performed under the new healthcare plan? I don't know, maybe ... in 2014.
4 more years of projectile vomiting! Yay! I'll buy Lysol in bulk!
I'd like to link to all the proof I have that I am going to be miserable for awhile, but it's pretty depressing stuff. Plus, our internet connection is currently nebulous. My are relying on prayers to God and a single, solitary, ninja-like Blackberry.
I have sent MoT to the store to get some emergency supplies. He wants you all to know that he hates mornings, emergency supply missions, and projectile vomiting.
Is there a doctor in the house?!
P.S. I had a really excellent time at the Colorado Kossack party on Saturday, but I ate all this tasty quiche. Which, in retrospect, was not a good idea. Sorry, Johnny. :/