This Cold Druckin Blows

Mini me.

Can you feel the love, my little Druckers? You should, because I am posting from death’s doorstep today. AGAIN I am beset with the mother drucker of all headcolds.

As I stated to my galpals whom I planned to meet at South this evening (before Satan came calling in all his phlegmy forms), only divine intervention can heal me now. But even though I can hardly stand up, I’ve decided to take a stand:

Elephant schmelephant. Who's buying me soup?

Stand for something or you’ll fall for anything, right Dad? ROLL TIDE ROLL.


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