Endemic Loopeeves

Nails on a chalkboard. Chewing with your mouth open. No, what we're addressing can't be found on any of the pages penned by Emily Post. These outrageous habits plague many of those of us inside the Loop and have gone unchecked, until now. We shall eradicate these diseases with fingers pointed and guilt galore.

Spocktitis - We're talking to you, Jabronies. Hey guy with the mega-techno-phone growing out of your melon. You have a disorder of the, "You look like a fucking moron of the present." Spock died in the Rath of Kahn and you're not bringing him back, so put that Time Life Books operator device of the future back in your pocket until someone fucking calls.

FAIL.

Spousalthelioma - This silent cancer is actually contracted by your significant other while the illness ultimately manifests itself through you. It's a slow, covert assassin, but pretty soon she's sucked everything away from you and you've realized you don't actually spend any time your friends anymore. In addition to gangrene of gums and krill oil flavored saliva, signs of this disease may be detected early on. A conspicuous, tell-tale sign includes your spouse having a greater interest in tracking your cock with a GPS, than inhaling oxygen.

Pill Pirate Pathosis - You may have just had shoulder surgery, but your friends aren't just looking through your front window to check up on you. They're looking around for those Vicadin bonbons Dr. Painfree prescribed to you. Then they stuff them in their pants while you're re-dressing your staple wounds. Enjoy your recovery, we're off to augment our adult sodas!

Dry Leaving - You can't pretend you've never experienced this before. It's similar to dry heaving, as in when you gag like you're about to blow chunks, but nothing actually comes out. The symptoms arise commonly when you really aren't in the mood to go out, but your buddies have convinced you that a good time will be had by all at Kay's. Sure, maybe if Mario pimp slap you for ordering a bucket of Banquet Beers. Anyway, you finally arrive and your buddy's cousin has put away three Pearl Light's and is already falling into your lap. Problem is she looks like she's got Downe's Syndrome as soon as she's sucked down a few cold one's. You don't want to alert anyone to your impending departure, so you act like you're going to the bathroom and simply exit the bar. Game. Set. And Match. You've just made a clean getaway leaving everyone else to wonder: Where the fuck did he go? Answer: Evacuated from hell.

Scrubolepsy - Dear Dr. Vainglorious, we think it's swell you attended and graduated from medical school, even if it took snorting Myoplex and a Ritalin lolipop to pass your rheumatology exam. Yes, you are doctor. That does not give you a perpetual license to wear scrubs whenever you are among the masses. Do we wear our suit and tie to the gym? No, so please don't wear your pathogen-laced pajamas while you stare into the mirror trying to replicate the P90X instructor. Also, it'd be nice if you could turn down the volume of your voice. Bulgaria isn't interested in the hookers you met at Glass Wall the night before last. You. Suck. At. Being. In. Public.


Have you been infected? Are you a carrier? Now swallow your medicine with a spoon full of mirror.