If Wishes Were Boar's Hair Hairbrushes

So I awoke yesterday with a blistering head cold and though I know we're not supposed to bitch about minor illnesses, I'm going to do it anyway.  Because there is nothing more annoying than a head cold.  It doesn't hurt, doesn't cause a fever, doesn't do anything but slow me down in the rat race and speed up my sinus reactions.

I now own a new box of Puffs with Lotion.  They're not nearly as quality as they were a few years ago. So in case you've been fortunate enough to not be the bearer of post-nasal drip for a few years, save your money. Or invest in something more awesome from the facial tissue industry and then let me know what you got.

Oh, and about the bitching: I don't complain very much about bigger injuries or illnesses.  I harp on the small stuff.  Damn.  Put that on my headstone.

I went to lunch today with Date's sister, and we talked about law and children and sinuses.  She's the ultimate person to hang with when you have a head cold because she has a two-year-old and apparently can no longer be grossed out.  Yes, I do consider that a challenge.  But she mentioned that Date's wife has a wish list on Amazon and suggested I check it out when I got home.  So I did, and it's an interesting read, albeit not interesting enough to discuss.  What's more interesting is that I've spent the last few hours creating my own wish list.  For the time being, it's private, but I can tell you that it includes both a Wii, a Dance Party game, a boar's hair brush, and a new TV.  Oh, and red-depositing shampoo.

Here's what's stuck in my head: