"Isn't there a Slanket somewhere you should be filling with your farts?"
Salma Hayek said that to Liz Lemon on an episode of 30 Rock, and now I always think of it when I pull on what I have come to know affectionately as "my Slank." But now that I have pregnancy gas it's not as funny, because it's true.
God, I am the worst. All day I've been burping uncontrollably, and then my nose started to run, but only out of one nostril, which seems worse somehow. I don't know if I have allergies or a cold, and I don't really know how to tell the difference because aren't they basically the same, except that one is caused by tree pollen and one is caused by that peanut M&M you ate even though a consumptive toddler had been palming it like a tai chi ball before you "borrowed it" from them?
I was trying to work despite my carbonated intestines and liquid sinuses when my upstairs neighbor started playing Rock Band. More specifically, he started playing Smash Mouth and Blink 182 on Rock Band. I burped my dismay but I don't think he heard me, so instead of working I ate an ice cream bar and read about Arnold Schwarzenegger's love child in retaliation. Then he played "Sister Christian" by Night Ranger, which you know is my aural emotional kryptonite, so I had continue not working for a little bit in order to weep softly into my right nostril snot rag.
Jeff pretends he's still attracted to me, but I'm pretty sure he's lying so I won't fart on him, or start to cry. Lately I've been anchored on the couch every night, resplendent in my machine-washable polyester caftan, surrounded by wadded-up tissues and food wrappers, looking like Marlon Brando in The Island of Dr. Moreau. I might as well be in one of those dioramas at the Museum of Natural History:
During the late twentieth and early twenty-first century before the new Ice Age, the Una ranged over eastern North America and parts of western Europe, although it generally preferred to stay within a one-mile radius of its apartment. Although it resembles a sloth in appearance, the Una is actually more closely related to humans and apes. Its name is derived from the reported (and photographically confirmed) unibrow it was born with and later removed. Una can weigh over one hundred pounds, but appear much larger because of their oversize sweatpants and voluminous "Slanket" coverings, which bear traces of some staples of the Unas' diet, such as artificial cheese dust and coffee Haagen Dazs. The Una became extinct after experiencing sudden cardiac death brought on by hysterical weeping to the power ballad "Sister Christian" by Night Ranger, an American rock band that gained popularity during the 1980s and then faded into obscurity.
My nails are looking pretty good, though. So I've got that going for me.