It’s Actually Sort of Perfect
December 22, 2011 § Leave a Comment
Chris has some sort of Christmas plague (thanks a lot, Jesus) and has been drifting in and out of a TheraFlu-induced haze all afternoon. I’m still scrambling to finish the 4chan revisions (NO REALLY THANKS A LOT, JESUS), but have been checking in on his breathing and basic status as an alive person every hour or so. During my last check-in, he woke up from a fever dream and got all Wizard of Oz on my ass — said he’d just had a dream about me. Apparently trolling was a piece of meat wrapped in plastic, and he was helping me carve it up while Bad Lip Reading’s Russian Unicorn played in the background. Because obviously. I was telling him where to cut, and got frustrated because he’d not taken the plastic off first. We needed to take off the plastic first, because we’d be serving the meat to a bunch of old people, and didn’t want them to choke. Then he woke up. And I was like, sounds about right. And then we laughed.
