. . . I got a third dose of vaccine . . . and it was boring.
I did not swell up into a wall crashing Hulk-Aid Man.
I have not received a single nanobot swarm enabled brain-radio transmission from George Soros, or Bill Gates, or Hillary Clinton, or Dr. Fauci, or Dr. Feelgood, Dr. Frankenstein, or Quincy MD, or M.D. Geist, or Genocyber, or Moon Knight, or Rocket Knight, or even Lassie.
Nor did I become an at-a-distance controlled fuckbot for the Bavarian Illuminati.
I didn't even get a come-on from the Rosicrucians-and we all know how freaky-deaky the Rosicrucians can get, don’t we?
I haven't even grown an extra old tyme cable car you can ride for a nickel.
Nor have I developed impotence. In fact, I think my nutbust may have even been upgraded to 'Hella,' though that's probably just from honest grinding more than anything else. You won't see me getting suckered by that pay-to-win hustle.
Fuckin-A-through-Z.
Yep.
Yeah . . . I sat in a chair, I rolled up my sleeve, and a nurse did all the work.
The injection felt like I was being touched by the tip of a ballpoint pen.
So boring.
It's almost like all this anti-vax and anti-mask and anti-mandate nonsense is total bullshit. Like it's a bunch of hyped-up idiocy for the clueless and/or the malicious to make sense of their empty consumerist lives and morally bankrupt right-wing politics. Or something.
Yeah . . .
Hey, maybe this Omicron action'll inject some fresh tension and terror into our lives, eh?
Seems a rather dire risk for funsies, if you ask me, but maybe it's like a, uh, like a sadomasochistic deal for these anti-vaxxers.
I dunno.
I guess I’m just too boring. Too pro-survival. Too pro-busting-the-nuts-fantastic.
'Cause you can't bust if you're dying a slow, horrible asphyxiation COVID-19 death, now, can you?
Nope.
So there you have it.
Get the vaccine shots . . . so you can keep on shooting off those nuts.
Good way of looking at it, Me!
