Whistle down the wind.

It can happen to the best of us.

You've tried everything. You've rubbed it and tickled it. You've picked it and blown it and wiped it. You've shoved stuff up it and pulled stuff out of it until no blockage can possibly remain, but to no avail. You've got one whistling nostril and apparently there's not a damn thing you can do about it.

And it's such a mournful noise; it's like a tiny, one-note bagpiper has taken up residence in your nasal cavity. Well I say: fuck that tiny bagpiper. Next time it happens I'm just going to spray weedkiller up my nose and have done with it.

He thinks I'm bluffing. But I'm really not.