Sorry about yesterdays post, it was utter drivel.

And my apologies for this one in advance.

I’m not making excuses for myself but despite the exultation on Friday when I though my cold was leaving my system, it certainly didn’t feel like that yesterday. Being the self-denying trooper I am I managed to suppress most of it putting my fatigue down to lack of sleep.

As the day went on I started getting really bad stomach cramps, I assume this is down to the vast quantity of snot I’ve consumed, even a couple of pints with Frank didn’t help and by the time I got home and had taken a bath I had no appetite whatsoever.

I had a totally non-eventful feeling unwell evening. My face was a snot waterfall and my guts felt as if they were primed with nails. I went to bed at 11 or so and listened to the radio, some ‘comedy’ on BBC Radio 4 which was occasionally funny but it was  so obviously being performed by doctors and it became all knowing and ‘aren’t we bloody clever/funny us lot’, it was a bit annoying made even more so by the overly keen audience.

I woke up at 5am with my stomach on fire and a clod of fizzy salt beef sat rotting over my button. I just about made it to the chod bin in time before farting out a pissing stream of corrosive acid accompanied by the sound of deranged pigs eating one another. It was agony, I set my nipsy on fire to the point it needed to be doused clean with cold water. I took some antacid and went back to bed. Five minutes later the process was repeating, then again for another hour, I fell asleep 10 minutes before I was due to get up.

When I awoke I evacuated myself again and came into work. Unlike a cold having a dose of the cramping cacks does require one to stay at home. But I simply have to be here this week. I’ve already attended the bog 4 times since I arrived; my stomach feels like it’s been replaced with helium and I’m weaker than a burp in a hurricane.

Fascinating aside. When I got home last night I noticed some ripped open post was sat in the porch. Scrawled on the front was written ‘I opened this by acident (sp) I thought it was mine’. I can see why Cunt had made a mistake; it clearly has my name and address over it…

Cunt has been dead quiet since the altercation last week; I know he’s down there, I can hear him cunt about. This morning during one of my bubbling/bark sessions at about 5.45, I heard him go out. ‘Fucking hell’ I thought, ‘he’s got a job!’

At 5.55 he came back in again. I give up.

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