I've fought with tooth aches, lingering coughs, bad knees, a thrown out back, mosh pit injuries, and toxic hangovers. I once battled strep throat in a mill shack in Atlanta in February with no heat, spending days on end submerged in hot water in my bathtub to counteract the fever chills. But never have I been so miserable for so long as this past week, when a laundry soap allergy laid me low.
Let's just say that a violent rash on certain parts of the human anatomy is a pretty good argument against a benevolent god. On the other hand, it does lend evidence to the god-as-an-immature-bastard side of things.