in which we list our own cv19 symptoms (speculative)

81. feet are exactly one foot long

82. uncaring hair

83. undiagnosed ability to juggle

84. every other toe is on fire
85. heart on sleeve
86. adequate knuckles

87. a sudden and demonstrated preference for spiral bound notebooks, specifically those ones where the wire spiral binding curls inwards slightly at the ends so it doesn’t get caught on your jumper

88. excessive and unexplained bleeding from hand after driving letter opener through hand

89. Speculative post mortem

90. ham fists, chicken legs

91. remembers the movie Short Circuit 2 with fondness

88. male menstruation

93. baker’s cough
94. ears taped shut

95. reverse pooping

just realized 93 is actually a thing :(

Perhaps you meant 'banker's cough'?

calz two contributions are possibly the best things to come out of this entire situation imo

Hadrian and OL brought the lols

96. vague, existential unease

97. Feverish shitposting

98. Increased daytime access to food and booze, leading to excess eating and drinking.

Lol these are all song lyrics.

99. pancreatic amnesia

100. clear plastic golf trousers

101. sudden ability to play the trumpet (as-yet-untested, tbf)

102. Black smoke belching from open mouth.

Okay, this one is 100% serious and mysterious and I wasn't sure where to share it before, but:

On my last day in the outside world, I left work and went on one last grocery run. Among the groceries I bought were four cans of soup, of a variety and brand that I regularly buy. These were the only canned goods I bought that day. I did self-checkout and bagged everything myself, so I know precisely what went in the bags. And I was mindful to not go hog wild on things like canned goods because I was going to be lugging all that shit on my shoulder all the way home and it adds up. The weight, I mean. So I get home, I put away my groceries, and because the cabinets were getting a little overfilled, I put a bag of less perishable stuff in another room. Namely, the four cans of soup and a loaf of bread. At that point, we were on lockdown, leaving basically only for walks and to like get the mail. No one else has been in the apartment. So like a week later, as we started to make some room in the cabinets, I thought: oh hey, guess I'll put away that loaf of bread and those four soup cans. So I went to the bag and...there were like ten soup cans in there, all but the four of a different variety and brand than I have ever bought. I...have no idea where they came from. No idea whatsoever. Literally the only way this could have happened via non-supernatural means is if someone slipped them into my shopping bag while my attention was diverted on the train home that day.

So:

103. mystery soup manifesting from the void

soup cans be fuckin’

103. mystery soup manifesting from the void

Have you considered changing your display name?

104. Biden-esque speech patterns

105. some psychosomatic symptoms, difficult to endure, involving the upper respiratory tract

106. Breathe the pressure / Come play my game, I'll test ya / Psychosomatic, addict, insane

107. literal frog in one's throat

108. I'm dead
109. I'm The Stranger

110. felicitous, newly acquired ability to front a caverncore band

111. urge to trawl through YouTube for videos of oddballs giving lessons on etiquette

112. Got a wicked case of the jimmy leg

113. woke up inhabiting the body of Richard Kline (who portrayed Jack Tripper's friend Larry on the beloved sitcom Three's Company)

114. speaks only in V A G A R I E S

115. perpetual obliqueness

116. smiling next to others in silent lucidity

117. Delayed choogling

118. Sad hands

119. bunch of sarcastic raccoons playing ping-pong in the ol’ mailbox, if you know what I mean

120. I really, really, really want to zig-a-zig-ah

121. old hockey books

121. jerkier, even less confident stabs at hanky panky

*122 ffs

123. Pre-mullet.

124. Post-hawk

125. Rough smoothies

126. Can smell passing clouds