I’ve seen 2 doctors and I’ve tried all types of cough syrups and cough drops, none of which worked. All the Nin Jiom Pei Pa Koa in the world doesn’t work on me anymore. The same goes for air asam jawa and other traditional remedies.
My friend J said that this is the 100 days cough. It won’t stop no matter what, till at least 100 days. What? These germs can count one ah?
Whatever it is, I’m sick of trying to make it go away. The cough medications are making me groggy and all the pantang larang are making me lose out on a lot of things.
So, I’ve decided to give up trying to get better and I’m gonna ignore all the pantang-larang and whatnots and enjoy life as it should be enjoyed, and eat whatever I feel like eating, even if that means I’ll cough my tonsils out tonight.
Can someone get me some ais kacang please?
Despite the cravings for the sweet, ice cold and nutty ais kacang, the cough also caused me to lose my appetite, particularly in the morning. So I’ve been skipping breakfast these past few days, to more detriment than good, unfortunately. Now, if skipping meals of this nature would result in me losing weight, I’d already be Kate Moss by now. But no, in terms of weight loss, NONE whatsoever! Damn it!
What it does to me though, is give me gas. Sorry, don’t mean to be gross, but flatulence is only a natural bodily function that most of us find hard to discuss in public. Men do talk about it a lot. Women simply don’t. It’s unladylike. But I don’t care.
With my grumbling empty stomach getting harder and harder to ignore, I went ahead and had a good lunch today, after which, my tummy produced this humongous flatus waiting to be expelled. But for some reason unbeknownst to me, I can’t expel it at all. Maybe I’m just shy, maybe I’m just self-conscious or maybe I’m just scared of causing an explosion. After all, these gasses are known to be flammable.
Whatever it is, this anatomical whirlwind has been going around my intestines and bumping into things and making quite a big ruckus in there. My oh my, it’s Hurricane Katrina all over again, albeit on a slightly smaller scale of course.
Damn, it hurts.
It’s a windy day today, and that’s why I can’t do my work (as if I actually do my work any other day!).
Perhaps ill Verses, ought to be confined,
In mere good Breeding, like unsavory wind.
Were Reading forced, I should be apt to think
Men might no more write scurvily than stink.
But 'tis your choice, whether you'll read or no;
If likewise of your smelling it were so,
I'd Fart, just as I write, for my own ease,
Nor should you be concerned unless you please
(John Wilmot, the 2nd Earl of Rochester (1647-1680) )