The problem with beer (and that’s a phrase that I’d wager you never expected me to utter) is that it’s not a socially appropriate beverage at 8am. Except in Scotland, where I’d stumble off the first flight from Heathrow to see some jolly jocks quaffing a couple of pre-breakfast McEwans. Outstanding effort there fellas.
So my pain management regime has been downgraded to Nurafen with every meal and not making any sudden moves. Actually it’s almost been a disappointment that the post crash injuries don’t really hurt at all. It was a pretty big off at a fairly high speed and aside from a neck with articulates about twenty degrees either side, nothing really hurts much. I realise this is twisted logic but even I’m struggling to offer myself any sympathy.
Still the ongoing chest infection / head cold / unknown virus / Spanish Flu Mutation has robbed me of my voice. Wages of Sin probably but while I start the day in fine voice, by the close of play I’ve been reduced to punching people to get my point across. A cross between Joe Cocker and a constipated poodle represents the most printable description of my current vocal output.
If it doesn’t get better soon, I’m going to open myself up with a spoon and have a good root round. Honestly I give up smoking and this is my reward ? Who says God doesn’t have a sense of humour.
I’ve told my wife for my Birthday present, I’d like a CAT scan 😉
Reminded me of a favourite (clean!) joke:
My cat wasn’t very well so I took it to the vets. The vet said, “before I look at your cat it’ll be£50.” “No worries, just fix it” I replied. He looked at the cat and said “its dead.” “It can’t be – I want a second opinion.” So the vet goes to the waiting room and asks the owner of a black Labrador if he could borrow it. He then turns to the dog and says” just check out whether the cat is dead.” The dog sniffed my cat, looked at the vet and said “nope, its dead” “I still don’t believe you – I want a third opinion.” So off he goes into the waiting room again and this time comes back with another cat. He says to the cat “just check that this is dead.” Sure enough the cat sniffs around my cat, looks to the vet, shakes his head and says “no its dead.” “OK” I say – I believe you here is the£50 – “No, no says the vet, its£200 now.” “What do you mean?” “Well there was a£50 initial consultation fee, then you had a lab report and then you had a cat scan!”
Good “off” report BTW.
Pain, the educator of the numpty.
I almost pity the electrons that were sacrificed for that post Mark 😉 Still my kids thought it was funny. Except for Random who laughed and then innocently asked “Daddy, What’s a CAT scan”…