Sexy people are strange

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Before I begin, I must confess, I’ve taken Benadryl. I don’t usually take antihistamines, but that’s because I usually don’t break out in hives. However, today seems to be one of those days. It has only been twenty minutes since swallowing the capsules, so I don’t have a long time before, according to the side effects, I collapse into a deep sleep that may cause drowning in my own pool of drool.

More than alleviating the itch, the Benadryl is making me feel sexy, which is the reason for my blog tonight. At first, I thought the tingle I felt was the medicine attacking the hives. Not so much, I realize now. Sure, this may sound like a potential aphrodisiac. Maybe even a less expensive alternative to oysters or ecstasy. But, really, I would only have thirty-five minutes to act before turning into the corpse from “Weekend at Bernie’s.”

So, now I add Benadryl to the bizarre list of items and places that uselessly make me hot under the collar. Among these are elevators, car washes, and conference calls – all very thrilling until the door suddenly opens. Oh, and how can I forget, bus rides. I made this discovery when I was in middle school and took a bus trip to Disney World. At the tender age of thirteen, I made out with everyone in rows 14 through 25.

Let’s see, I think I have four minutes left before I slur sweet nothings into my pillow.

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