Heartburn is when you feel...burn...in your heart area...namely your chest. Like after eating too much mexican food. The sparky things happen to me when I haven't slept enough or I'm naseous. It tends...atleast to me...to mean I'm dehydrated. So, really, you're dying. So much for trying to avoid yellow cheese, soda and all those other cancer causing agents. Your body wants cancer instead of being tired and dehydrated.
All that, and I'm not even an slave to the English major. They will never make me their bitch. Rather, I bend over and take it up the ass for Biblical hermeneutics (interpretation) and Greek.
I have reverted back to the orginal idea that I might have the plague. It sure feels like it right now. And from the looks of all of you at dinner... I really think one of you gave it to me... or vice versa. Everyone is looking rough lately. Why am I the only one doing something about it?
Go to the doctor. Not that I really have room to talk, but then you're not known for the same blatant disregard for personal well-being that I am. That's pretty much what I was feeling like a couple of days ago, but I attributed it to the overload of smoking I did before Lent and the following withdrawl. Get some sleeping pills. Have someone come and whomp you unconscious with a baseball bat every night at around 11. Do something. Or else you'll end up like me. And though I know that's an attractive prospect, you don't want it. Seriously.
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The sparky things happen to me when I haven't slept enough or I'm naseous. It tends...atleast to me...to mean I'm dehydrated.
So, really, you're dying. So much for trying to avoid yellow cheese, soda and all those other cancer causing agents. Your body wants cancer instead of being tired and dehydrated.
All that, and I'm not even an slave to the English major. They will never make me their bitch. Rather, I bend over and take it up the ass for Biblical hermeneutics (interpretation) and Greek.
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Get some sleeping pills. Have someone come and whomp you unconscious with a baseball bat every night at around 11. Do something. Or else you'll end up like me. And though I know that's an attractive prospect, you don't want it.
Seriously.
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Seriously though... he better give me drugs, this sensation within me doth not feel good.
Eh... and perhaps now you'll consider taking my advice?
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