They're Not Even a Real Country Anyway



Canada tried to kill me. It tried to sneak into my intestines and rip them out little by little from pretty much any orifice possible.

I woke up Sunday night with that terrible feeling of dread. You all know that feeling, where you realize something unnatural is going to occur and soon your pie-hole is going to become a pie-spigot for everything you have consumed in the previous twelve months? It is honestly the worst experience ever.

The only thing which makes that event bearable is knowing that once it's over and done with you immediately feel better, but that was not the case this time. With this horrible Canadian bug all I felt was like getting up an hour later and doing it again. The only thing I managed to do Monday was lay in bed clutching my barf bucket and sleep, then get up to vomit. It took me two days to get down a half sleeve of saltines and can of chicken noodle soup.

This is why I have decided we need to forget about border patrol and invest in a giant North American wall. A wall that can keep the Canucks and their viral infections out and good ole American clean germs in. But, I think we should keep Alex Trebek as an apology for all the trouble they have caused (and for importing Molson Ice, yuck!).

Hoosiers.

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