Vaccinated!

“I’ll give you the shot on the count of 3,” the nurse said.

She jabbed me before she even got to two.

I’d say that it didn’t even hurt but there ain’t no way that you don’t feel it.

“Why would you get it?” One worker said. “You’d survive Covid.”

“How do you know that for sure?” I asked.

“I don’t, but you probably would.”

Probably?

I got the shot for the greater good and so I do have a better chance of survival.

I got the J&J one and done shot and that’s good for me because I hate having things hanging over my head. Waiting a couple of weeks for a second shot would’ve messed with me.

“They made it using aborted fetus tissue,” someone else mentioned to me.

“Is that true?” I asked.

“For sure, I read all about it.”

I don’t even know what to say about some of what is being bantered about. I don’t think that Bill Gates planned all of this in an effort to turn me into a 🧟‍♀️ zombie.

I’m quite convinced that a microchip wasn’t pumped into my veins so they can track me.

Whoever ‘they’ are.

And track me. I don’t care. I get up, go to work, hit the grocery store, play golf, and hang out with Miller and Paris in the backyard.

I have nothing to hide. 

Track me...

...I’m currently on the couch.

I can see them gathered in a dark room, concentrating hard on my microchip:

“It appears he gets up and walks to the bathroom to pee every two innings. Fascinating!”

In all seriousness, I knew three men who died of Covid. 

Two of them were in the early 50’s. 

I also know of a number of men who suffered through hospital visits and time on a vent.

I didn’t want any part of that.

I also didn’t want to be responsible for bringing it around to those I love and even the strangers I see every day.

There’s no coming back from death.

I got the polio vaccine as a kid. It worked out pretty well.

I may not know a whole lot about what was just shot into my arm. I’m not much of a scientist.

I simply like not dying.