(This is why you always wash your hands after handling Maxim photo shoot props. For all you know, Fergie might have touched them before you.)

If the strongest among us aren’t safe from disease, there can be little hope for the rest of us mere mortals.  According to Dana White, Brock Lesnar is “not going to be fighting for a while” because his condition has worsened of late and doctors “don’t really know all that’s wrong with him.”  Though DW said his condition wasn’t life-threatening, he added that Lesnar did have some other health issue in addition to mono, but declined to say exactly what it was, calling it “very serious.”  Sounds like he wasn’t faking sick, after all.

Even giants get ill sometimes, so it shouldn’t be so frightening to hear that Lesnar is laid low, right?  Normally, perhaps.  But this comes near the end of an illness and injury-riddled year for the UFC, and things only seem to be getting worse.  Former champ Antonio Rodrigo Nogueira is also going through some rough times, and a resurgent staph infection has forced him to pull out of UFC 108 and will likely result in him being hospitalized.  On its own, it might only be a personal struggle for Big Nog.  But in light of Lesnar’s illness and other current trends, it is surely a harbinger of doom. 

I don’t think I’m being an alarmist when I say this, but mankind’s chapter in the great book of history is now drawing to a close.  Soon the super virus that is attacking Lesnar’s mighty immune system will have grown even stronger, and then it will spread to the general, genetically weaker population.  As whole cities die out in a matter of hours, only Lesnar – patient zero – will be left alive to wander the vacant planet. 

The man who spent his entire life trying to be left alone will finally get his wish and, getting it, will realize at far too late an hour that he’s missed so very much.  There were so many things left undone and unsaid.  So many days squandered and taken for granted.  If only he could get on top of his wife just one last time.  But alas, death owns her now.  The Virus took her.  She, like the rest of humanity, is but a bitter memory that makes his stomach turn and his eyes ache when he rises in the morning and looks to the east at another grim sunrise, another endless day.