I've had a very nasty bout of diarrhoea lately, so naturally I've taken multiple COVID tests, but only sixty nine out of a hundred have come back positive so far. I'll keep testing until I get nothing but negatives but until then I thought it would be prudent to consult my doctor. The Eris variant is fucking terrifying and DOES NOT PLAY AROUND. I'm not taking any chances on this one, folx. I needed my shitwater analysed for COVID fragments, stat.

Anyhow, that explains why my wife walked in on me squatting over her Tupperware bowl whilst messily unloading a veritable airstrike of chocolatey, volcanic arse-napalm into it. I waddled after her with my pants around my ankles and tried my best to explain why I had defiled her crockery, but she refused to see reason. If you're reading this, Cynthia, please come home. It's not safe out there and you forgot your stoggles and N95. Think of your dead Grandma.

After I finished crapping my guts out, I brought the sample in to my doctor for analysis. I was shocked beyond words to see that no one was wearing a mask in my local surgery. I stood there at reception in my elastomeric mask, clutching my lidless brown bowl of raw sewage data in my trembling hands, and just glared at everyone. I hope they were sufficiently ashamed of themselves. Thankfully, my scowling eyes weren't misinterpreted for friendliness, and people kept their distance without needing to be told as I waited to be seen.

Eventually, after what seemed like ages, I was called in. My (maskless) doctor took one look at my pooey package and literally told me to "fuck off". RUDE.

"I didn't risk my life coming down here for nothing!" I cried in defiance, thrusting the bowl out towards him. A swampy wave of errant wastewater sloshed over the side and splattered over the floor and my doctor's shoes. As we slowly raised our heads and made eye contact, my stomach made an all too familiar groan. "I fear we're in the midst of another surge, doctor." I barely managed to splutter out before being propelled forward like a bottle rocket by the awesome force of my massive shart, spraying the entire examination room and my doctor with the contents of my bowels in the process.

I honestly thought I'd walk away empty handed after that display, but my doctor was all too happy - giddy even - to give me a booster. I never did get my wastewater analysed, however, although judging by how sick the smell made everyone in the surgery I'd have to assume there's definitely a high viral load of COVID in there. Until we're out of this tsunami-like wave I'm going to be Paxxing, vaxxing and relaxing in my house.

#data #wave #BS24.7 #get-boosted-folks