Well, certainly clearer than it has been for a little while. Although, if you listen carefully through the night, you could be forgiven for thinking that my apartment is ground zero in the origins story for The Walking Dead. It starts off innocuous enough, a sniffle here, a minor coughette there and, before you know it, “BRAAAAAINS” or something.
What the fuck are you talking about Dave? Man Flu.
I know, people thought it had been eradicated but the large red X that has been painted on my front door, along with food delivery drivers turning up in Hazmat suits, suggests otherwise.
Women will never be able to understand the plague that is Man Flu. A singularly sexist disease that targets the strongest amongst us and returns us to the state of mewling babes. I mean sure, they have Child Birth and the monthly Visit*, but nothing to the level of Man Flu.
Man Flu attacks the brain and disables the Fuckula Givelongata. Whilst recently under the control of Man Flu, I manage to use the Fuckenstien Giveafuckometer and I honestly thought it was broken as it did not even flicker. Subsequent tests with less accurate devices such as the Giveashitometer and even the very basic Offyourarseoscope and I realised how serious a bout of Man Flu I had contracted. After failing to make a difference with the Impetus Grantus**, I quickly employed the Refuckulator*** but, unfortunately, this did not have the expected results and I was forced to conclude that I was not long for this world.
What was a boy to do? I made an announcement on Facebook. Let’s face it, if it isn’t on there then it’s pointless. I have to say that my heart was warmed by the outpouring of sympathy from the people there. They only had one concern and it fair made my day (to be honest, I feel like it probably made my hole weak) and that was, of course, for the well being of..well…all my stuff. Within minutes, my PC, Recipes, Cakes and even my beloved fitness equipment was already allocated out.
Readying myself to pull the plug and allow the Man Flu to finally consume me, a shining beacon of hope appeared. IAP. She had heard the call and, while she couldn’t hope to understand the suffering, dipped into her Gypsy handbook and sent unto me the only known antidote to Man Flu….Jewish Penicillin. Sure enough and a day later, I was cured.
I realise that I will have to purchase many many sprigs of heather to absolve myself of this debt, lest I be cursed to have all of my MP3s become Baby by Justin Bieber, but it is a price worth paying and I will gladly do so. For Man Flu is not to be trifled with and you can’t always have Gypsy Witchcraft on your side.
I was lucky, you may not be…so pay attention and avoid drafts.
This post has been brought to you by the letters M and I and S and O and…fuck it…it was brought to you with Misogyny Ok, misogyny and a large amount of cheek based tongueness.
*Can we please just address the elephant in the room btw. How the hell is it possible for a creature to bleed for 7 days without becoming an ex-creature. ‘Tis the devils work I tells ya!
** 1 Coffee and a cigarette
** Complicated to explain, but contains at least 2 coffees and a cigarette