It's not the pervy websites, either.
(Although really, what with all the recent attempts to get me to buy Viagra (or Cialis, which is apparently the new Viagra) there doesn't seem to be any great need to provide men with hours and hours of sexually stimulating material. After all, the men are all walking around with tentpoles, right? From all that Viagra they're buying over the internet? They don't really need to get any more excited, do they? Are all those pervy websites really necessary?)
I have a cold. It's not a huge one, and it started off as quasi-laryngitis. Originally I attributed my new sexually-stimulating husky voice to having, on Sunday:
1. Sung with my choir
2. Sung again with my choir
3. Had my choir over for a post-Advent Lessons and Carols Service party
4. Stayed up late TALKING MY HEAD OFF.
So then on Monday I woke up and discovered that my vocal chords had been replaced with a pile of shredded lettuce. I was capable of speaking in a soft, quavery whisper, but that was about it. At first I thought it was the result of drinking Manhattans and being waaaaay too funny. But on Tuesday, I woke up with a full-fledged upper-respiratory-tract thing.
Which I think I caught from one of you. Probably Badger, but maybe someone else. Let's face it; the whole internet has been complaining about being sick.
Thanks to you prolific, yet germ-ridden bloggers, I have taken to my bed. Yesterday I emailed people, posted to a Yahoo group, shopped for myself and wonder of wonders, I even did some on-line Christmas shopping.
I even wrote a Mamarazzi contribution. If by some reason, you've run out of Viagra (although if you have, I think I know where you can get some) you might want to go check it out. There are legs! And boobages! And Lipstick Lesbians, even. Maybe.
And now, having provided the internet with Even More Pervy Material, my work here is done.