I know, I know I’ve been slack but there is good reason for this. Two good reasons actually. Three if you count the ruthless efficiency and fanatical devotion to the Pope. No four..FOUR reasons. I’ll come in again.
Reason 1: MANFLU
There has been lots of speculation that manflu is just a regular cold that the male species fail to adequately deal with. This is not true. Manflu is on a par, if not worse than giving birth. Days and days of hurty head, sore throaty and a dodgy tum tum. It’s no joke I can tell you.
I’m still not over it but I’m being a very brave little soldier about it all. I’ve hardly moaned at all. The type of manflu I had was highly contagious. It was only a matter of time before the wife and kids got it too but as ever they escaped with a lesser version of what I had. This always happens and I think it’s because germs are like the military. Germs know that if they can topple the dominant force then the other family members will quickly fall into line. As I was the first resistance they encountered they threw their best troops in. I had to deal with the bug fighting-elite who carried a much bigger punch than riff raff light infantry viral ranks behind them. The rest of the family only had to deal with the bug reserves who didn’t really have much fight in them to start with. I deserve a medal really.
I’ve never been a sick person (accept when it comes to drowning kittens) but since the sprogs have arrived sleep and the recuperation time necessary to deal with any bug-ular unpleasantness have become one of lives luxury optional extras. My body it would seem has decided to sub-let my throat and chest to every viral nasty out there.
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Tell that to Stephen Hawking and he’ll put a black hole in your face before quantum entangling your nads.
Reason 2: Mersey roots
The other reason I’m late with the new bog is because I’ve just discovered that my great, great, great grand parents were scousers. My new found laziness and penchant for nicking stuff is really eating up my spare time. I’m learning the language of my ancestors as well. Repeat after me:
Glaytt grandpappy kudunt nick carz coz dey addent been invented add dey, soez he ‘ad ta nick da shoez off hersez instead.
It’s quite easy once you get the hang of it.
I should have known I was part lay-about, why else would I instinctively leave the warm sunny south coast for the damp northwest and a town where the River Mersey runs straight through the middle…? But even before my slow journey homeward, as a kid I was forced to support Liverpool FC by my inner benefit cheat (cuz Leaver-pule are glaytt and Evertun arr clrap).
I’m not a complete lost cause though as I also have roots in the eastern block, which means I have a natural affinity with plumbing, electrics and cheap labour. So although my dole-scum in me wants to laze about watching Jeremy Kyle, my cabbage munching alternative heritage wants to fix things round the house while smelling of home made vodka.