I have the lurgy. The flu. The bot. The bug. The thing that makes you feel like crap and renders you incapable of thought other than to moan and groan about how bloody miserable I feel.
It all started when I went off with my Mum to commemorate my father’s passing.. Dad left us and we try to do something that celebrates his life. Well, Dad loved his Maccas. He did not enjoy the Maccas he had in the Invercargill McDonalds when he ordered a breakfast burger dripping in creamy mayonnaise and so saturated with body killing stuff that one could hardly taste the meat pattie, the cheese or the tomato sauce. As I recollect it had something to do with Jonah Lomu but I could be wrong.
We sat in the Invercargill Maccas and my Dad and I had ordered the breakfast burger. Mum ordered the pancakes and syrup.
As she noshed in to her brekkie, my Dad and I tried to navigate this lamentable brekkie burger and both looked at Mums and thought “ we want that. “
A few days later, I got really really sick with the flu. Dad was crook and we both got mouth ulcers.
It was a bad bad day. The beginning of a lurgy. A bug that we caught and we blamed it on a burger. Obviously, it had nothing to do with the crappy burger we had at Maccas. But it suited us to say “ oh, it must be something to do with the food we ate. “ Just because Mum did not get the lurgy and we did does not then make it categorically the burger at fault.
That is the problem we have these days: blame it on the last person we hugged, the last person we saw or the last person who gave us money. The last food we ate.
I cast my mind back 40 years to a bar in Rotorua. I had the lurgy. I did not know how I got it and I did not even think about how or where the lurgy came from.
I just knew that I was sick. Very sick.
The Maori barmaid looked at me and said that I did not look well and said that she had the Cure.
I said that if she could cure me, I would be up for it.
She gave me a tequila contreau and lemonade. I swigged it. I asked “ will this Cure me ? “
And she replied
“ No, but you will be too pissed to care.
These days, I wonder how many young people self medicate to become too pissed to care? Are these young basement dwellers hiding in the basements because the MSM makes them feel too afraid to venture out?
I come back to the morning in the Maccas in Invercargill with the dreadful burger and the great hotcakes.
Mum went for the tried and true and we went for the latest option on the menu. Which failed.
I wonder. Maybe we go for tried and true instead of the unknown? Maybe we just do not want the mayonnaise dripping over our pattie and smothering our burger… but maybe we just want to have good old fashioned stuff?
My personal opinion is that we are being taught to have the lurgy and self medicate. The People who control us want us to self medicate with alcohol and drugs.
And they want us too pissed to care.
Job done.
