hickonfire

Sick Bastard

There’s a commercial that shows a sick dude in a hotel room. A bell boy is tryin’ to convince him to take NyQuil. He finally gets this poor sick bastard to take it by tellin’ him it’ll make him feel like he’s home. The man imagines bein’ in his own bed with his wife peacefully cuddled up next to him. He immediately takes the NyQuil.

I saw this commercial while workin’ my ass off on an elliptical runnin’ machine down at the gym. I was feelin’ strange and giddy and tryin’ hard not to puke. I imagined what that commercial would be like if I were the sick dude.

“It’ll make you feel like you’re home.” Dissolving into my imagination, here’s what I see: First, there’s a cat sleepin’ on my head. She’s 375 degrees. Her breath feels and smells like hot landfill garbage water. Another cat is runnin’ ‘round the house ‘cause she thinks she’s on fire. She yelps and moans and cries as if some demon shoved a cactus up her butt. Double L looks like a giant burrito ‘cause she’s tucked and rolled all the covers in and around herself, leavin’ me bald and freezin’. She’s snorin’ like a lumberjack. She’s snorin’ like a lumberjack that likes show tunes. In fact, she’s snorin’ the melody to “I Gotta Be Me”.

posted by hickonfire @ 2:42 PM