Making my entrance again with my usual flair

An informative, yet unfunny update.
Well, kids, for the past week and a half, I’ve been as sick as the day is long.
And apparently, the days length == pneumonia.
Lucky for me, however, I have the kind people call “Walking Pneumonia,” meaning I can still generally go about my daily activities all while feeling really shitty and frightening people with my phlegmy coughs of doom.
If you know me — and let’s be honest here, how many of you really do? — you’ll know that I have a fundamental problem about taking off work or abandoning prior engagements. While a nice enough sounding work ethic, it has resulted in me infecting numerous comedians and co-workers, and re-spraining my ankle when my dear friend Tom asked me to go out dancing with him and his friends.
After sufficiently infecting a couple people, the guilt set in, and I took the last two days off work.
I mean, I have fucking pneumonia, but still in the back of my head, I imagine all my co-workers shaking their heads in disappointment of me. As if they cared.
I did, however, host the Funnybone, and my body went into what Hsiu termed as “Fight or Flight” syndrome, meaning I made my body healthy enough for my two hours onstage, and the second I got off, I nearly drowned in my own mucous, and even tried a couple times to corkscrew into my own head to let the sinus pressure out.
So, I took a healthy day (night) off work, and lucky for me, there was a Fresh Prince of Bel-Air marathon on Nick at Nite, so life was awesome.
And today, although I still break into the occasional terrifying cough that gets my heart pumping really fast and for a second, I’m fairly certain I’ll never catch my breath again, I feel a hell of a lot better.
And hopefully I won’t suck as badly tonight at the Funny Bone as I did last night.
I did well up front, but…everyone makes fun of me because I ALWAYS write out my ad-libs and “spontaneous” hilarious intros, and last night, let’s just say, THAT’S WHY.
I messed up one guy’s name, mistaking it for a guy I had just BROUGHT to the stage, and then my dyslexic ass informed the audience that they should “put it up and give it together for Mr. Vic Wallace” followed by me tripping off to the kitchen to laugh hysterically/find something sharp to stab myself with.
Oh, first times.
Well, I’m off to dry my hair and worry that I’ll be as big of a doofus tonight, then try not to die when I drag my pneumatic ass into work tonight.
Dying is easy.
Comedy is hard.

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