Here i am on the doorstep of death, my bloodshot puppy eyes practically pleading for sympathy and/or a blow job, but getting neither, and so deepening my general malaise.
Another half a pint of runny snot gloops over the back of my hands and onto the keyboard, the precursor to another sneezing fit which has probably already reduced my life expectancy by another ten years.
It can't get much worse Shirley?
The second to last sneeze was a belter.
Nearly got whiplash off the force of my head accelerating forward, a force big enough to propel my spectacles across the tiled floor, the right lens coming to rest in two seperate places, smashed assunder.
As i bent down to retrieve the busted specs, the final sneeze blasted forth, coating the optical device in another half a pint of runny snot.
When the missus gets back from the opticians i'm going to demand to be euthanised under a strong morphine based anaesthetic.


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Cheech and Chong EH.