You know how it goes: you meet someone and fall in love. Maybe you get married, maybe you have some kids. You live, laugh, love yourself into a state of pure bliss, and you think, how can I be so lucky to have this incredible person in my life?! But then, just when you least expect it, and probably somewhere between August and February, it strikes – The Dreaded Man Cold.

Sure, you’re familiar with the common cold, but the man cold is anything but common. The man cold is a plague on our species, searching to seek and destroy the dudes of our species with slight throaty-tickles, night sweats, and achy limbs.

Now, you may be thinking, “for fucks’ sake, what could be so different about a man cold?” but lo, you likely wouldn’t understand how a simple viral or bacterial contagion could come out of left field and threaten everything you hold dear. Death lurks around the curtains and pulls on the heavily blanketed toes of the male of our species, scythe in hand, just ready to reap the harvest that a slight cough or low-grade fever delivers.

We women lament as we see our strong, glorious husbands become reduced to overgrown children before our very eyes. Sure, we may also be suffering from some illness, but ’tis nothing compared to the blight on humanity that is the dreaded man cold! Sickness for a woman in these scenarios is what happens between nursing fevered brows and performing last rites. The common cold takes backseat to the man cold, you silly woman! It’s simple triage, we must save the dying first!

All jokes aside, you cannot fully understand the man cold unless you have seen it in action. Try hard to refrain from rolling your eyes so you don’t miss a moment of the torment.

Ah well, at least we have laughter – the best medicine (for the non-dying, of course).