This story is fucking hilarious. It’s by a guy who got a tapeworm, and how he got rid of it. I know it sounds gross, but it’s written so well it’s very worth the read. An excerpt:

“Monsieur,” he finally said, “ce n’est pas grave. Je pense que vous avez un ver solitaire.”

I had un ver solitaire? What was that? A solitary worm? A lonely worm. A worm that kept to itself; a moody worm. My kind of worm. An individualistic worm that had taken up residence in my intestines. A worm of character. The English term suddenly snapped into my head. “You mean … I have a … I gotta … there’s a para– a parasite … a living thing … in me?”