My back itches. My throat feels funny. I'm having a bad hair day.

It must be anthrax.

I have to agree with the esteemed Jon Couture (whose blog that I'm aping for some reason is availabe at http://people.bu.edu/joncooch, which I'm not going to try to link considering I really screwed things up last time I tried) that we're all a little wound up on this subject.

Folks, the bottom line is that 99.9999999927% of us are unimportant enough to get anthrax mailed to us, or don't work for someone who is important enough. You can lay in all the Cipro you want, but you'll find that you're at more risk to get the flu or be hit by a bus while crossing the street.

And if you're going to hoard antibiotics, there are far cheaper ones that are as effective against anthrax. Penecillin, for example. Leave the Cipro for the folks who actually need it because they've got some resistant strain of something because idiot patients get idiot doctors to give them antibiotics when they have a cold or other viral infection.

Not that I don't have a game plan for beating anthrax. I'm spending all my non work time hiding under my bed, and soak all my mail in bleach for an hour before opening.

Oh, fuck the Yankees, too.