Monday, 24 November 2008


Yes, it's that time of the year! It starts of easily enough the throat is a little tight and your voice sounds a little husky, and even (possibly) you might be in for a bit of 'lurve'in' from your beloved due to your movie star vocals. But this is highly unlikely, so as the days pass the throaty, husky sound is replaced by a squeaky tone as the lining of the throat is ripped off by deep racking coughs ,which you pull from the soles of your feet to scrape the length of that itchy irritating windpipe. At night any sympathy your dearly beloved may have had for you is rapidly dissipated if not totally extinguished by a combination of,Racking coughs ;Wheezing lungs, which, sound like the dogs squeaky toy with a variety of different squeaks n' sqwarks as you inhale or exhale :The snorting and sniffing as you try to get life helping oxygen into your flem filled lungs. This inability to breath through the nose leads to holding the mouth wide open and exacerbates what, i have reliably been informed through the many happy years of my marriage to 'The Lovely Lynne', my amazing snoring ability.

Then, the daylight hours. The problems encountered have a slight twist.Plastered in sweat ,steam coming out of your collar, sleeves and socks. Your sprawled out on the couch watching the telly. (Just recently, we had Sky+ fitted, its great, so i'm watching recorded films and television series and haven't watched an advert in weeks. Quite frankly, the flu can stay as long as it wants.) But ,from time to time, i feel like i've swallowed a housebrick ,it wont go down so its got to come out. When we were at school, horrible snotty little bastards we were. We would 'Gob', anywhere. We would also take great pride in the size of this great green glutinous mass we'd just 'Gobbed onto the deck. The girls were often quite impressed too. The fascinating thing is, in an average day i can 'cough up'(..Don't Gob, now i'm all grown up)..About x5 my body weight in snot n' flem. I thought i could put it to good use and build a sculpture, a little like Richard Dreyfuss moulding that mountain with all that mud in 'Close Encounters of the Third Kind'. But, i could do a sort of 'Collossus of Rhodes 'standing astride guarding the front drive of the house in dryed out crystalline snot n' flem.(A Flemish masterpiece?,ok then). I can see it now 50 feet tall in Emerald green. The Lovely Lynne wasn't keen though, she's happy with a rockery.

Last night the telly had a new series'Survivors' about a bunch of gorgeous trendy, with it young actors who survive a Flu-pandemic that wipes the rest of us, that aren't as good looking enough to appear in the increasingly cliche'd casts of every sci-fi, cop.spy telly series that they 'bang out'. Basically every series made in the last few years has got to have a young pretty,but feisty,with attitude(etc,etc,) cast with the correct levels of sexual and ethnic representations in the mix. And maybe an oldie, over the age of 25. But a gorgeous cast and computer special effects is what we all want, apparently. I've just had a thought, how about taking the cast of "I'm a celebrity get me out of here!". Then swapping them for the cast of "Survivors"?..Onr thing about that "Survivors", idon't know if the flu actually killed everybody. Or, that they're sprawled out on the living room sofa working their way through all the programmes they recorded on SKY+.


Anonymous said...

While you're lounging about on the sofa, could you ask the lovely Lynne to pop down to the post office?

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