As most of you know I live in a house that could do for a couple of Phd's in biology just on the kitchen floor, cat fur rolls into hummocks, the mouse is still living in the oven and brooms linger in the corners and gossip like workers round the water cooler. So off I go out into the bracing fresh air and come home with an air born Roto virus, the spelling is immaterial. I am still ill a week later although I did eat a meal last night. I haven't had a vomit spell like this since I don't know when and was lucky I grabbed a towell on the way to the bathroom. I won't go into the gory details but there is a reason Billious Yellow will never be named colour of the year.
My phone has gone crazy in the storm and I can't be bothered fighting with Telstra yet.
I tried to clean the toilet and if I ever find the evil bastard that invented child proof locks on toilet cleaner bottles I will jam his head so far down the S bend he'll never be found. I used a screwdriver combined with pliers.
Mother is sicker than I am, as usual.
I will never be without Gastrolyte in this house again and I'm never giving it to anybody even if I know they are feeling as badly as I did last week and this week, probably next as well.
It will be another week before I try eating food that isn't white, no colour, even the toast isn't browned.
And stuff youse all around me who now have speedy broadband, 8 of you thieving signal mongrels who all log on together and I'm left without a computer as well as no phone.
The world is whizzing around now so I'm back to bed so I can face the news full of politicians full of themselves.
I will return.