My son thinks he’s dying again. He’s got a pain in his abdomen that he is certain is a result of the four beers he had at a party three days ago. I assured him that I’ve never heard of anyone dying of four beers after three days of functional health. It did remind me of my freshman year in college in Philadelphia when my Uncle graciously indulged me by taking me to see his doctor. I was convinced I had testicular cancer. All I had was achy balls. Perfectly normal, apparently, for a young man afraid of the world.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
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2 comments:
I've never had achy balls, thank god. Your son might have a point though. I'm sure there are plenty of people who have carked it three days after having four beers; I'm sure it's enough that it's not a coincidence. Of course the answer is never to go more than two days between beers.
I'm happy to report that my son has recovered enough to go mountain biking, so the danger has passed. Good to see you're back from the latest of your exotic adventures, yarb. I did want to ask you if you prefer zungg to yarb, because I'm leaning towards zungg myaself, which reminds me of an early sixties monster in the pre-Spiderman Marvel comics or a nemesis for Dr. Strange.
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