In 1992 I think I caught the Huggubuga.345, subvariant 23. virus. This whilst deep tongue kissing a fat Native, (sorry First Nations Person of the First Nations Association of First National Aboriginal Injun Association). This at the bar of some unremembered dive, Prince George, British Columbia, Canada.
We somehow ended up back at her home where I managed to tonguewise caress softer and gentler parts of her corpus, to her grand enjoyment.
Now, next day entire crew was scheduled to meet up, 9 am, at such an such patch of pavement, therefrom to depart to next bit of labour. Duly did I arrive, duly did I depart.
Now, day next next, I begin a coughin, hacking up half a lung, spitting out chunks of green Martian glue from deep within the bowels of my lungs. So I coughed and spit and horked and worked, hacking and coughing, for the better part of two weeks.
Then it was gone. I was well. I don't think I have been ill in any way since. (not counting the booze). Since then ... no cough, no fever, no headache, no respiratory illness, no aches, no pains.
So why in the hell would I take an under-evaluated, new vaccine that I don't need? I fervently believe that recovery from the Huggabuga.345 subvariant 23 virus provides me with immunity from all disease, lightning strikes, car accidents, spitting Cobra attacks, starvation, various enfeeblements, and other affiliated banes on humanity.
Pipe that in yer smoke and put it.