I’ve never suffered any weird aftereffects from them, either. Unless one of the unknown side effects of the vaccines I’ve already gotten turns out to be becoming an elderly alcoholic that nobody pays attention to, they’ve done me no harm.
This year, I’m even going to get a flu shot, just to be a good citizen and also because my Significant Other says if I don’t, I’m free to sleep in the garage with a roll of paper towels wrapped around me for warmth. In vain have I argued that wearing a face mask everywhere, as we have to do here in San Diego County, and washing my hands like an OCD raccoon, makes it extremely unlikely I’ll get the flu as well as the ‘rona.
But when I’m going to get a purported Covid vaccine depends on who’s selling it. The Caucasian-in-Chief claims he might have one before Election Day, at which point he thinks the sixty percent or so of Americans who think he’s an amoral, compulsively lying, traitorous, ignorant miscreant are going to be so grateful for the cure that they’re going to vote for him anyway, conveniently forgetting that by November, there will probably be about 300,000 Americans who will need neither a vote nor a vaccine, thanks to him.
I’m not rolling up my sleeve for that one, even though I’m as sick of this pandemic as anyone. No one likes eating in restaurants, drinking in bars and running across the border to Mexico more than I do. It keeps me off the streets at night, much to the relief of my neighbors and the police.
If it’s Trump waving that needle in my face, I’m avoiding it like it was just pulled out from an HIV-positive junkie’s arm.
I’m getting the Covid shot the day after Fauci gets his. And I’m getting the same one.
I recommend this course of action, without a hint of my usual smart-assedness, to everyone.