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Sunday, 14 October 2012


I haven't been on-line for a couple of days since I've got a lovely dose of the flu/plague/just-shoot-me-now that's being going around the office. Not to mention the tube, train, and my own home environment since my cousin has been lurching around the flat like a fully made-up extra from the Walking Dead.

It's annoying, since this is the second time in two weeks I'm down with something. Dear Immune System, all is forgiven. Please call me soon. 

Right now I can't really talk, because it hurts, but the headache seems to have backed off for a bit and I can look at a screen without whimpering. This is progress, although most of my body feels like it's been systematically beaten by an enraged leprechaun armed with a lead pipe, and every gland in my body appears to have tripled in size, including the one on the back of my head and neck. (Yes, this is a real thing. Google it before you scream at me in the comments, because right now I lack the energy to point and laugh.)

I look like a short and very irritated rugby player, with jock-itch. This is not a good look for me, dear reader. I'm hoping that that particular swelling goes down and I can actually get into work on Monday, because being unable to put on your trousers does not bode well for your working day.

To add to my misery, and probably because the only reason I'm eating once a day is because my cousin is dragging me out of my Lil Pit of Doom to feed me, tonight my p.j. bottoms decided to try and become ankle warmers. This is particularly distressing when it occurs on your way down a couple of stairs, holding dirty plates in one hand and cutlery in the other. Nothing says "I've lost 5 pounds" like a groin grab while holding a fork. Also, it's a good way to realise you can still swear in Klingon. Apparently the husky, dulcet tones I applied gave it extra depth and dimension.

No recent sign of the Spawn of Satan. Maybe the piteous whimpering has driven it to quieter pastures?

In the meantime, if you're a Walking Dead fan, have a giggle at this:

The follow up, which ends with one of the funniest pay-off's I've ever seen is here:

Also, if you're a fan of urban fantasy, Ilona Andrews is running a weekly serial that's pretty addictive. If you haven't read their stuff (this is a husband and wife team) you're missing out on something pretty good. That link should take you straight to their website.

And Richard Shury has just released a new collection of shorts on Smashwords called Wading All, which looks to be as hypnotic as the rest of his stuff, and for $1.

No other news, apart from the fact that my junk mail is currently being targeted by people who think that I:
1) Need viagra (fairly sure I don't have the right equipment for this one. Maybe the fork incident scared it away?)
2) Really want to watch bad porn (*sigh* Not really. Watching an idiot in a bad wig have sex does nothing for me.)
3) Am American, and entitled to a variety of credit cards (Nope. Got a few friends there, but pretty sure I need to actually live in the country)
4) Am still owed PPI repayments (Oh, boy, do I wish that one were true)
5) Am over 50 and desperately need health insurance (Bwahahahah! Of course, if I actually make it to 50, talk to me then. Right now that feels a bit optimistic)
6) Am jewish/christian and desperate to date like minded people (No, no, and hell no. Dating someone with a mind like mine would probably result in some sort of time-warp, and/or planetary destruction. No.)
7) Have won three different non-existent lotteries in the past week. (Could we try something that doesn't insult my intelligence, just once? Please?)

Still, I guess it's nice to be popular, even if the spambots have sadly misread their data. The Nigerian scam fund emails seem to have eased off a bit since I offered two goats and an Oyster pass in marriage, though. Maybe I came across as a bit desperate, but it's been a while.