Robert Kirby took the day off to blow his nose. This is a reprint of an earlier column.
Allergy season officially began at 3:17 in the morning.
In my dream, the attractive Amazons who had captured me suddenly stopped making carnal threats and instead pounded two muskrats up my nostrils. I chain-sneezed until dawn.
It happens like this every year. Not the Amazon part. Once it was the Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders. No, I mean the part where my sinus slams shut and my nose starts drooling like a h...
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