Showing posts with label illness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label illness. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Trash Talking Your Illness

Whenever you get sick, it's easy to get down on yourself. You feel like you're being held hostage by a virus, and you have to wait until the police (i.e. antibiotics) negotiate a safe release. You're helpless to do anything but sit motionless in bed. You might be inclined to try prayer. Or watch your favorite movie in an attempt to ignore the pain and discomfort.

Chin up, sport. You don't have to be so complacent. Tell the cold, the flu, the sore throat, or bronchitis how you really feel. If you just lay there pitying yourself, the virus will think it has won the game, and it will run up the score. Here's a guide to approaching your enemy and retaking your health. Body and mind go together, as well as yo mouf!

1. Question its intensity.
"How many people you kill? I ain't gonna say how many I killed. Don't wanna embarrass ya. You sure you related to the swine flu? Cuz what you're bringing is weak. I mean, your game is pathetic."
2. Remind it of your perfect record.
"Every season, you know who comes out on top? This guy. How many rings you got? I'm undefeated and I'm just getting started!"
3. Talk about endurance.
"You've got to outlast me, son. But you ain't got the stamina! Pack yo bags. Train's leavin.' Get home to yer wife. Dinner's gettin' cold."
4. Point out the scoreboard repeatedly.
"You do realize I'm winning, right?"
5. Emphasize how its play is one-dimensional and downright flawed.
"I'm coming at you from all angles, kid! Hydration - BAM! Nutritious diet - BAM! Loads of sleep - BAM! Theraflu - BAM! All you know are two approaches: throat phlegm and night sweats. I got lozenges and Advil for that! I know how to defend that shit!"
6. Be real.
"I didn't get in to this game to make friends. I came to bring the pain and get paid. You're just another chump standing in the way. Step off before I break somefin' off!"
7. Speculate on the nature of things.
"The way I see it: I get back to 100% and I'm making six, seven figures a year. You know, makin' a name for myself. In the meantime, you're still hopping from person to person, leeching off anyone you can find. No retirement plan, no stock portfolio, no Benzos. Nothing to speak of! Now that's a sad excuse for a life, man."