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Radon, It's a Crazy Feelin'...
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Radon, It's a Crazy Feelin'...

Well, the verdict is in and, unfortunately, my basement is Radon free.

What does that mean? It means I have to find something else to blame my debilitating feebleness on, that's what it means. And I was really hoping to be dying of Radon poisoning, too. It's so mysterious and fancy.

CONCERNED PERSON 1: How did Crabbydad die?

CONCERNED PERSON 2: I heard it was... (whispering) radon poisoning.

CONCERNED PERSON 1: Oh man, that sounds horrific! What were his symptoms?

CONCERNED PERSON 2: Tiredness... occasional wheeziness... lack of desire to do anything substantial with his life... oh, and of course the chronic crabbiness.

CONCERNED PERSON 1: He must have been very brave.

CONCERNED PERSON2: Hm... no, not really.

So that basically leaves "being old" as the cause of all my symptomology. I'm tired because I'm old. My lung capacity is down because I'm old. I have a pulsing flesh-nubbin jutting out of my armpit because I'm old. I can't start or end my day until I make a nice B.M. because I'm old. I can't drink more than a glass and a half of wine without drying up into a dessicated husk overnight because I'm old. I don't have eyebrows anymore because I'm old. I constantly trip over my pendulous scrote that's dangling down around my ankles because I'm old. FINE! I GET IT!

It would've been a fuck of a lot easier to have had radon-poisoning, though.