What kind of a holiday is it when you seem to have caught the flu? I’m unsure whether to view this either as a result of the majorly excessive drinking over the last fortnight, or simply as a drinking challenge for the next two weeks of my holiday.
Regardless, I am holing up for the time being – I’ve got tickets to the Funeral for a Friend gig on Sunday and I’d like to sufficiently recover before then. Although, as with many gigs lately, I’m actually mainly going for the support band (in this case, Fightstar, perhaps better known as the Charlie Simpson Eyebrows Extravaganza and his Orchestra).
So as if the flu-related symptoms weren’t enough, I chanced eating a Weis bar last week, which for someone with a citrus allergy, is like playing Russian Roulette with an automatic. On top of liquidious sneezes I’ve now also got a bulbous mouth of ulcers to contend with.
Still, there’s far worse allergies out there – at least I’m not allergic to nuts, like a lot of other members of my extended family are. I’m partially convinced that this is due to allergy by osmosis: my parents banned us kids from going near anything with nuts until we’d reached age 12, for fear we’d promptly choke and cark it.
Of course, by the time my 12th birthday rolled around and a platter of peanuts was unveiled with great ceremony, I was too shit-scared to consider putting one of those grenades in my mouth. Although cashew nuts appeared as innocently kidney-shaped delights on the outside of my body, I was convinced they’d swiftly expand to fourteen times their size once they entered my throat, pufferfish-style, promptly choking me and ending my youthful life.