According to Sam and Jim Commenting on things that irk us off, make us laugh out loud or just seem too weird too believe According to Sam and Jim: Don't Shoot Me Again

Monday, October 10, 2011

Don't Shoot Me Again

It's time to get your flu shot. If you really want one. All your better supermarkets are offering them for a small price. Just pick one up when you go in for that jug of milk or that carton of eggs - it's easy. You might not want to pick up any listeria laden cantaloupe right now

I'm not going to get a flu shot, I don’t wanna and you can’t make me.

Yeah, yeah, I know I made Sam get his shots: rabies, parvo, bortadella and all those other preventative shots, but what are the chances I’ll get the flu? Besides, if I do get the flu, I’ll just lie in bed, sweat and moan and carry on like the really bad patient I can be. Surely Kathleen, who vowed she would stick by me in sickness and in health won’t mind, and will bring me some chicken soup and cough syrup.

Whoa. Ixnay on the cough syrup. I hate that stuff. One time I had strep throat and the doctor prescribed some cough medicine. It burned worse coming back up than it did going down. I hate that stuff. Some things you can’t mask the taste of no matter how much fruit juice you dump into it. ICK!

When I was nine years old I came down with rheumatic fever and spent several months in the hospital. During my stay at the hospital I became something of a pin cushion for needles. One time a nurse injecting my backside said, “Oh look, he’s had so many shots this one’s leaking back out.” Consequently, I am not fond of shots.

I do appreciate the polio vaccine I received and tetanus boosters and those death-defying shots to prevent small pox and cholera and whatever, but man I do not like needles. I have a really hard time watching Sam get his shots. Once years ago my little brother cut his finger pretty badly while I was babysitting. I had to take him to emergency to get fixed up and that was no problem, but when it came time for the nurse to give him a shot the bile rose in my throat and threatened to expectorate itself whether I wanted it to or not.

The all-time worst shot I’ve received to date has to be the one where a needle was stuck in my eye for eye surgery. Dear God! The doctor was right that it didn’t hurt, but when I saw that needle coming at my eye, it was all I could do not to jump up and run like the dickens. I’m pretty sure I left finger indentations in the arms of the chair where I had been seated.

I don’t relish shots at the dentist either. Having a needle poked into my gums is not fun no matter how good the dentist is. It still hurts, stings and makes me want to punch somebody.

But speaking of punch, the shots I do like come scooped from a cut-glass bowl at a party or in sliding down the bar with a head of steam from a pretty bartender. Those are painless and you get such a nice buzz of euphoria.

Please drink responsibly like they say on television because getting arrested for driving under the influence sucks. I know, I used to throw people in jail for that. Jails are not nice places.

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