Throat

Since finally clawing my archive links back from the maw of oblivion, I've been doing some idle cross checking between my blog and my various other journals. And I found out something very interesting.

See, I like to sing. I'm not bad at it, either. And every so often, I will go on a bit of a singing jag, during which my voice will improve to the point where I start thinking seriously about recording summink or finding some other peeps to sing at. And every time I have got to that stage-- every time I have said to myself "Right! Now's the time to get the tape deck out and show some tonsil!" I have come down with a nasty oozy infection of the throat and/or lungs which precludes me from taking things any further. Every time, without fail. More telling still, every incidence of such an infection has coincided with a singing jag. I never, ever get one without the other.

Which means that some part of me has decided it's a good idea to be scuppering my vocal cords.

Right then, mush. You are BUSTED! You've had things your way for years, but the party's over. I'm coming for you. Those are my vocal cords and I'm having them back. Put down the wallpaper paste and STEP AWAY FROM THE VOCAL CORDS!