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The flu….
Every year around this time it knocks me on my ass. It doesn’t matter where I
am or what I’m doing. My schedule and commitments mean nothing. The flu
doesn’t give a shit. So here I am, trying to say something about New Jersey
nightlife, the excitement of our 7 year anniversary or something witty about
Donald Trump. I got nothing. I’m pretty sure I’m dying.
As I type this seemingly farewell letter I can see my temperature is 102 and the
cold sweat is dripping onto my keyboard. My hands are shaking and my head feels
like it’s about to explode. A gallon of NyQuil and a pint of
Guinness doesn’t seem to be having my desired effect. Did I mention I’m dying.
So for all of you reading this who are also dying, forgive me…I need to go back
to bed. Just one final word… Fuck you flu shot!
The end.


Chaunce Hayden


MN Magazine

MN Magazine

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