Tonight, as I was lounging about, wearing my plaid robe and smoking my pipe (I’m very classy), thinking of what my next blog post would be about, something exciting happened. Something I will now tell you, without embarrassment.
I was lounging, as I explained, when my father burst out of the rest room, his face pale and gaunt. At first I was worried the zombie apocalypse was finally hitting Montana and not just the east coast as he stumbled to his bed, and here I was with my shotgun out of reach and not even wearing my knickers. However, as he lurched down the hall, clinging to the wall for support and weakly asking me to help him, I realized he was not a zombie but was actually just suffering from a bad flu. This was a reassurance; I could help a victim of influenza. Nurse Greg to the rescue!