A Brain Full of Slime

There was no me on the radio today. For anyone tearing their hair out in desperate grief here is a picture of me feeding dinosaurs at the weekend:

Unfortunately I’ve been sick these last few days with what at first I took to be a deadly new contagion that would torment my organs into a viscous paste before sending my pitiful soul straight to the upside-down hell of the agnostic; fortunately, after rest and gentle consideration it turns out I have contracted the more common but no less debilitating man-flu virus.

I missed a presentation and was absent for a graded exercise yesterday; also, as I mentioned, I was unable to go on the radio today.

So of course there were the profuse apologies and the rescheduling; my head isn’t pounding so much with the co-dydramol though so I’ll drag myself in tomorrow and try not to cough minute particles of blood containing flesh-eating parasites that wind up breeding in the air-conditioning and heralding a worldwide pandemic the likes of which not seen since late 1920.

I do have an education to consider, after all.

And in case anyone has noticed the gurning Halloween party pictures of me on everybody’s favourite social networking site and thought: “That dirty motherfucking liar! He wasn’t sick at all, he was probably fucking hungover, the dick. I hope he gets hit by an unlicensed taxi that fails to stop, the deceitful cunt.” Rest assured that the images are from a party last Tuesday where I drank too much and the pub on Saturday where I drank very little because I was feeling poorly.

What is ‘ironic’ is that I was due to have a flu-jab last week but didn’t go because I’m both lazy and scared of needles.

I hope you feel bad now, you bastard. And where are my fucking grapes?

Anyway, normal service will resume.

Is that okay? Can I go now?

3 thoughts on “A Brain Full of Slime

Add yours

  1. The desperate attempt to keep up with the young has backfired as your body,rebels at the constant abuse you heap on it as your mind has disentegrated under the psychic pressure of being you.

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