There's satisfying about the end of a Cold, about the wheeze that builds into a sputter, that soon builds into a cough, eventually propelling that chunky glob of phlegm out of your lungs and onto your keyboard.

Jeezus, that was really gross.

Trust me though, reading about it isn't near as disgusting as trying to dig it out from between the "J" and "K" keys.

Good times.

My head's been cloudy all goddam week, and I can't really even tell the days apart anymore.

So, it was a real surprise to be sitting in BossGuy's office, brainstorming about how to make my "pet app" better (read: more moolah), when I got another idea for the betterment of MyCompany.

A good idea.

Cha-as they say-Ching.

My timing couldn't have been better, as my "performance review" was scheduled an hour later with VPGuy. I was a bit nervous, as I've been my fair share of "Drunk Asshole" around this guy and it was my first review, but it lasted all of five minutes.

What he said was, "In lieu of your contribution to the company... blah... raise... BIG raise... performance... bonus..."

What I heard was, "We love you big time, Judd, here's lots more money."

I thanked him and we shook hands.

Then I coughed phlegm on him.

I'm kidding, I aimed it towards his keyboard.

I still feel like hammered shit, but when I came home I told NeighborWife the good news and she caught the rare, but notable, Happy Dance, on film.

Two... Three... Four...

Smack that ass...

It's MY kitchen, and I'll be as White as I want.

Fuck that Cold! I'm flyin...

Fuck that Cold...

I went out and bought D'Kwon's Dance Moves at the thrift store for that one.

Shake your tailfeather. Blues Brothers style. Man, I miss Ray Charles.

The shirt I'm wearing was a gift from my roller hockey team when we won our last championship.

The team's name is "Judd's H0's," and the shirt says, "I (heart) all my H0-H0's," with a little Mr-Hanky-Christmas-Poo-lookin' guy on it.

I had absolutely no say in the name, by the way, I wanted us to be "Bras for Hat Tricks," but I was outvoted, and the rink manager wouldn't allow us to be "Judd's Bitches," so the name stayed.

That's cool, 'cause I loves my shirt, and I loves me my H0's.

*Smack* "Who's yer daddy? Let's dance!"