Poison Ivy… like… what the hell, dude. It’s a global freakin’ pandemic and you stumble on some Poison flippin’ Ivy and smear it all over yourself like some kind of low IQ lab rat? Could you be any dumber? You were a Boy Scout for crying out loud, you should know better.
Jen bought some over the counter anti-itch spray. It’s helping a little, but I think I put it on a little too heavy. It got into my nose and into my throat and it’s icky. Ugh, if icky is the price of less itchy, then I think I can live.
There may be an upside to all of this though. As I mentioned in my random post yesterday, the Boston Red Sox are monumentally bad. Just… atrociously bad. Seemingly unrelated, but maybe very much related, the doc at the urgent care sent me home with a prescription to fight the Poison Ivy I was dumb enough to rub all over myself. The prescription is for a steroid cream. Isn’t that what Barry Bonds used? The Clear and The Cream?
Could it be? Could it be that I am going to take the same thing Barry Bonds took (no, it’s not) when he cheated his way to the title of Major League Baseball Home Run King? Do you think that the Boston Red Sox might be calling me soon? I used to pitch in youth baseball when I was like 14 and I can’t be any worse than the pitchers they are getting slaughtered with now, right? Steroids worked for Roger Clemens. I mean, yeah his skill level without the steroids was higher than mine (a little) to begin with, but if I take steroids too…. I could win 20 games AND hit 40 home runs for them.
Give me a minute to goop this stuff on and then give me a call, Red Sox!