Thursday, April 21, 2011

Waking Death

I'm not dead, though I sure as hell feel like it.

Almost a week straight of fever now. Just broke last night. Now I'm left to deal with the weakness and achy aftermath.

Don't tell me to go to the doctor either - I live in the US and I have no insurance.

I'll live.

To defray the whineyness of this post, I offer more hot cosplayness:

20 comments:

Colin Biano said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
notforeverybody said...

Glad the fever broke. Hope you feel 100% soon :)

HamBone said...

cosplay is so damn sexy. i wish more girls dressed that way... it would be such a fun life. the pic you chose is awesome!! hope you post more.. I'll follow for sure and comment and click. please return the offer. have a rad day !!!!

ed said...

shitty situation, hope all goes well dude

Mike said...

Sick at the moment too - Not much fun

Team Panda said...

im starting to get sick too, i hate it. other people are so careless when they're ill and i ALWAYS get sick from some jerk who didnt stay home in bed.

Jay said...

indeed, that pic perked me right up. :D

feel better man!

The Old Master said...

love the pic though :)

David said...

Hope you feel better soon! Fevers suck so much. I live in the U.S. too, and though I do have insurance, I pay through the nose for it. I understand your situation.

sporktar said...

Please don't die-sincerely me.

MRanthrope said...

wow man, hang tough. I'm in the no insurance boat myself. I just curl up in bed and hope for the best. Nothing else to do really... =/

Kim Anders said...

love cosplay! mm

B-rad said...

I'm not really for going to the hospital for anything i can deal with either, but if it get's too bad just go to the hospital. :/

Mo said...

want moar

Trelin said...

Doctors are for broken bones and cancers, not wimply little fevers. Of course, if that fever gets in the 103 range for too long i'd get my ass to a free clinic.

Inhia said...

put some rum on it

H A R R Y G O A Z said...

Happy Easter!

Paul said...

Sorry for you... :(

Marianne Kearns said...

Join me, follow us, wiseabove...

What's your address in Heaven, dear? Dunno? Mine's 111 Rock-Solid-Ave, Milky Weight, Seventh-Heaven. My sub/dude, neon mansion? Mama mia. A grandiose, exquisitely detailed, 3-acre-stuccoish home in a cul-de-sac with mountain-bike-trails we may conform with our thots. Why limit Almighty God? Why not fire-ALL-cylinders in one-fell-swoop? My intimacy with women Upstairs? Subtle, stupendous, fire-engine-zeal -to- supersonic Sunday School which is an eXcellent, eXcessive eXaggeration of our lives woven together: push-button, point-blank, Newtonian-laws-of-improv where one force of kick-ass, party-hardy, white-water-rawness equals every, single, evening with wild knights, phorNphood, avatars, tender faeries, cereal killers and symbiotic, front-row-seats. Whew. Yes, of course! Baby making is most certaintly an option! ...yet, I gotta wanna see how She feels sharing me. My many planets? Gorgeous girls? Gott'm. Gotta lotta'm. Gotta gobba IQ, too, withe K2 orchestra only accessable to those with adolescent behavior: TOTALLY YOURS!!! How??? Gotta accept Jesus, missy!! Gotta. Wanna. Or you're sooo out-of-order, toots. Therefore, let's accelerate to the Maximum POW!er; let U.S. 'populate' the universe with i2i loyalty to the Bright Son. Wanna join me in God's wild Kingdome?? Chop, chop, dear. Time's running-out for us in this existence finite PS: Time, as an entity, is also mortal: while thar aint no time in Seventh-Heaven, dollface, yet, puh-lenty of time to love due to the superior-supply-of-summer...

...cuzz the only other realm aint too cool: sweltering, cramped and Fugly rotten; Pokemon sawing-off your cranium with a chainsaw; nasty darkness, eternal starvation, Satan lies like a Persian rug; o'er-the-Hillary profusely cakkkling for eternity, no purchase necessary. How purrrecious! sez Gollum. 'Nuff sed. Decide NOW. Make Your Choice -SAW.

MyCrucifixIsMyFix.blogspot.com
trustNjesus

Marianne Kearns said...

Join me, follow us, wiseabove...

What's your address in Heaven, dear? Dunno? Mine's 111 Rock-Solid-Ave, Milky Weight, Seventh-Heaven. My sub/dude, neon mansion? Mama mia. A grandiose, exquisitely detailed, 3-acre-stuccoish home in a cul-de-sac with mountain-bike-trails we may conform with our thots. Why limit Almighty God? Why not fire-ALL-cylinders in one-fell-swoop? My intimacy with women Upstairs? Subtle, stupendous, fire-engine-zeal -to- supersonic Sunday School which is an eXcellent, eXcessive eXaggeration of our lives woven together: push-button, point-blank, Newtonian-laws-of-improv where one force of kick-ass, party-hardy, white-water-rawness equals every, single, evening with wild knights, phorNphood, avatars, tender faeries, cereal killers and symbiotic, front-row-seats. Whew. Yes, of course! Baby making is most certaintly an option! ...yet, I gotta wanna see how She feels sharing me. My many planets? Gorgeous girls? Gott'm. Gotta lotta'm. Gotta gobba IQ, too, withe K2 orchestra only accessable to those with adolescent behavior: TOTALLY YOURS!!! How??? Gotta accept Jesus, missy!! Gotta. Wanna. Or you're sooo out-of-order, toots. Therefore, let's accelerate to the Maximum POW!er; let U.S. 'populate' the universe with i2i loyalty to the Bright Son. Wanna join me in God's wild Kingdome?? Chop, chop, dear. Time's running-out for us in this existence finite PS: Time, as an entity, is also mortal: while thar aint no time in Seventh-Heaven, dollface, yet, puh-lenty of time to love due to the superior-supply-of-summer...

...cuzz the only other realm aint too cool: sweltering, cramped and Fugly rotten; Pokemon sawing-off your cranium with a chainsaw; nasty darkness, eternal starvation, Satan lies like a Persian rug; o'er-the-Hillary profusely cakkkling for eternity, no purchase necessary. How purrrecious! sez Gollum. 'Nuff sed. Decide NOW. Make Your Choice -SAW.

MyCrucifixIsMyFix.blogspot.com
trustNjesus