My dude has been struck down by chickenpox!!!
Poor little mite.
But it’s best he’s got them.
Inconvenient, utterly cruel, but best.
Due to this work lark, which seems to take up a lot of days, it’s been 2 weeks since last we met.
This weekend we were going to go swimming with Shaun, and then to the woods where we’d be hunting bears (and running away screaming). If it’s the woods I’m thinking of, then there’s a climbing frame and a sandpit. Shaun did say and it starts with a ‘B’.
It doesn’t matter, we couldn’t go — chickenpox.
Because I can safely assume I’m immune to chickenpox (I have the scars to prove it), and because you can’t catch shingles from a chickenpox’d person because that’s not how it works, I paid the dude a visit.
He got it bad.
He looked so miserable, he must’ve been proper fed up.
He had the perfect sick day TV, though — Scooby-Doo!
Ever since visiting I’ve been itchy. It’s like a bite itch. I’m sure it’s only sympathy scratches.
You never know, I could be one of those rare cases that get chickenpox for the second time.
Oh dear, I might end up sterile.
I don’t mean to make light of sterility but I’m gay, it ain’t an issue. It ain’t happening. I — well, I don’t want to get into it. There’s this walnut thing that, for me, I found quite off-putting. I don’t know what it is. I don’t want to know what it is. It felt like a walnut and I didn’t like it.
I don’t mind walnut walnuts but every time I look at one I shudder.
This post just took an unexpected turn.
Assuming I survive:
It’s on April 12th, I want it in March so I’ll just check back for cancellations.
Life will be so much easier.
Oh god, now I’ve got to learn where like the oil goes and stuff.
I can work out petrol.
I’ve never used the machine, though, but it looks quite self-explanatory.
And now, after traumatising myself over a walnut, I remember there’s a way gay men can make babies and my answer is still no. No no no. All still too close to that walnut.
Why did I have to remind myself of that?!
At least with a penis, you expect nuts.