Pimps down.

Despite your frat brothers insistence that you’re just worn out from the Pimps and Hos rager last night, you’ll instinctively feel something is off. The party consisted of you, ankles high, duct-taped to the wall, and handcuffed to Sherri. Being the designated party foul, you gamely did keg stands from this position until you finally blacked out. A fitting end to a fine evening, no? This morning, when the fellow pledges took turns pelting you with ketchup packets, they took your occasional blinking as a sign of a killer hangover. Only when you failed to respond during the induction rites (complete with ceremonial paddling) did they finally pull your body from the wall and push you from a moving vehicle onto the Emergency Room patio.

Congratulations! You’re in a Persistent Vegetative State.

Tip of the Day: Hire an agent. You’re going to Terry-Schiavo it all the way to you 15 minutes of fame!

Rheum to breathe

You will wake this morning fearing you are a vampire. When you were poking at your newly bumpy wrist, you realized, to your horror, that you have no pulse. A quick check in the mirror dispels notions of vampirism, but reveals a definite need to get your roots dyed. Who’s going to believe you’re a natural blond now? Of course, now you remember that you missed your appointment last week with Claude, a faux-swedish-straight-gay-man that charges $200 to burn you with bleach. Last week, the CDC quarantined you with a sadistic form of streptococcal pharyngeal infection. While you were bedridden, all that molecular mimicry caused cytokine release and tissue destruction. It’s okay, it won’t ruin your plans to stay in this weekend and get bumped up the transplant list for a new heart valve. Side effects to look forward to include temporary arthritis in the larger joints (such as the one connecting your self esteem to your personal appearance), a swollen heart resembling a spaghetti-O, icky fibrous tissues in random body locations, a snakelike ring rash (once again, resembling the aforementioned spaghetti-O), and your facial muscles will dance like an epileptic at a rave.

Congratulations! You have rheumatic fever.

Tip of the day: Get yourself ready for Major League Baseball tryouts, because you’re getting steroids, baby!

Please Pass the Salt, General

Yesterday's illnesses be damned, you still think eating contests are the way to go. Perhaps you should have listened to your girlfriend when she didn't think it was a good idea for you to inhale pound after pound of hot dogs? Sure, protein packing to look like King Leonidas is always a good idea. And it might get you a sexy illness like cruedzfelt-jacobs (how foreign!). However, pale as boiled chicken, your anemic pallor and gastrointestinal distress suggest allergies to protein. Your eyes may say no!, but your distended abdomen says YES!

Congratulations! You have hypoalbuminemia.

Tip of the day: Use your ballooning figure to score some paid maternity leave. There's nothing like a vacation steeped in deceit.

Greek Myths and Toxicosis

Andromeda, famed for being tied to a rock on the beach to punish her boastful mother, fights back this week. Her vengeful spirit wreaks havoc in your life after overhearing you crow that the state fair honey eating contest was in the bag. In the spirit greek myth, you gorge yourself, solve a sphinx’s riddle and find out the whole thing was a low rent film for Zeus’s Skinamax, to pay the price for your overactive mandible. Well, that and an impacted bowel. Unfortunately Andromeda got her honey from the Dead Sea with a side of dangerous toxins. Now, your sodium ion channels are all blocked with bacteria causing excessive salivation, perspiration, vomiting and a parasthesiatic mouth. Say it with me now: Sexy. Local armies historically used this toxic sweetness to down the enemies of Xenophon, Pompey and now you. Your weakness exposed, I suggest ditching those plans to overthrow those pesky blahblahkystan countries near the great salt ditch because your Achilles heel is wide open.

Congratulations, you have Andromedotoxin poisoning.

Tip of the day: Take up cross stitch to quell the urge to coup.

A Disease Named by a Hippie

Today you will excel at Mario: Duck Hunt as your night-blindness finally progressed to tunnel vision. Butter up you upper motor neurons by letting them play a few games. Their current refusal to transport across the cortico spinal tract is cramping your trigger finger and your left toe. Your mild retardation will surface when you refuse to believe the luigi is, in fact, the brainy one.

Congratulations! You have Laurence Moon Biedl Syndrome

Tip of the Day: Hypogonadism gave you more blessed room in your speedo, but unless you get off the couch, ain't no one gonna wanna see you in it.

Tiredness? Malaise? No appetite?...Rabid?

So, you've been a little bit irritable lately. Whose to blame you? The damn holidays just finished and you didn't even get that pet raccoon you hinted so hard at. Drooling and voice change are just side effects of that backordered phen-fen you've been popping like laxatives in an eating disorder clinic. Luckily, your malaise, nausea, and itchiness will soon give way to delirium, brain swelling and cardiac failure. You're a shoo-in for watercooler gossip this week! Too bad you can't go near it for your crippling hydrophobia.

Congratulations, you have rabies.

Tip of the day: Stay away from old yeller, recent events may color your memory of that bygone classic.

What's the diagnosis, Q?

For once in your life, you are completely asymptomatic. The sun is shining, that damn bird won't shut up and you find yourself skipping to work (is excessive joy a symptom?). Then, you lick the secretary's phone for a practical joke. Two days later, she has night chills, a fever of 105, enlarged spleen, pneumonitis, endocarditis, diarrhea, nausea, and myalgia. Turns out, you were a vessel for an incubating virus. You got cheated from infection of a disease named straight out of James Bond. Life just isn't fair, is it?

Congratulations! You have Q Fever.

Tip of the day: Lock yourself in a dark closet, bemoaning your fate.

Grave's Disease

Your goiter may be large or barely noticeable by x-ray, but worry not! Scarves are in this season. Unfortunately, so is Spandex. In a stroke of luck, your hyperthyrodic weight loss got you back into those black leggings. And, the orange-peel-like, thick skin on your legs is going to keep you in them. It may affect the upcoming bikini season, but, at least it will take attention away from your bulging eyes. (Don't worry, it's just inflamed eyefat). If you were diagnosed yesterday, think of it as a First of Muharram present marking the beginning of the Islamic calendar. This sacred month forbids fighting which is good, since your fatigue will prevent engaging in roommate warfare re: the dishes.

Congratulations! You have Grave's Disease.

Tip of the Day: Channel that nervous energy into planning a fondue party, then scrap the idea because your obsessive pacing will unnerve the guests.