Say for instance, you're at work, minding your own business; surfing the net, when you end up—as you often do—at the mind-numbing, courier covered site of Matt Drudge. You assess the possibilities as your eyes wander down the page...
(Tempting, but where the hell is Cameroon?)
(That's nasty; we all know it didn't just "leap.")
(Hmm, maybe my dad’s Russian.)
(That's a panic attack waiting to happen.)
(Good thing I don’t jog.)
But you—being the responsible hypochondriac that you are—you, don't follow the link about people being denied medication, nor do you click on the article about H1N1. No, you—in a conscious effort to maintain your sanity—you, take the safe path, and go with:
That's right "trouser woman." As in woman getting her ass kicked for wearing trousers. No disease. No death. No swine. A little corporal punishment, but hey, it's all in good fun. And what are you rewarded with for making this educated decision?
"Hussein, who is in her 30s and whose husband died of kidney failure, told AFP in a telephone interview: "'I'm ready for anything to happen'..."