I am not mad

Sick

There reaches a point when you are off sick, where the benefits of avoiding work through not being able to breathe are outweighed by "You're not going to sit there all day feeling sorry for yourself, get up and hoover the stairs."

Today is that day, and I apologise to my esteemed colleagues in advance for infecting them.

I can still be useful, though. I'm going to cough into a jar and send it to the controller of Radio Four*. That'll learn him for messing with die-hard R4 listeners. I remember when people set fire to themselves when they started doing The Archers in stereo. It's like that, only far, far worse.

I am not mad.

* Esteemed colleagues: This is a lie


Minogues

It is now a Duck family tradition that all our pets are named in honour of the lovely Kylie (and not, I should point out, her skanky sister). So far, we have:

Ryan Minogue (hamster)
Molly Minogue (cat, d'csd)
Harry & Lucy Minogue (dogs)
and
The Fishs Minogues (some, but not many, d'csd)

It's not a short-arse pop-star with a better-than-average bottom, it's a way of life.

I am not mad.


Quote of the Day

From a work colleague who shall remain nameless.

"When I came to this country 30 years ago, you were free to do what you like. Now, you cannot go to the gym without shaving your armpits."

Comrade! I shall fight and die for your right to work out with the Black Forest under your arms.

I am not mad.


Catchphrase-me-up, again

After all that thrashing about last week, I've suddenly realised I do have a catchphrase which will be chiselled onto my gravestone. Yes.

I am not mad.