Flu

Ah Jeez! I drunk myself into a bad case of the flu last week when a friend from England dropped into town. It's all his fault of course! :-) I guess if you are shaking and that shaking is not being caused by the booze, then you should listen to your body and take it easy! Instead I find myself skulling pints at 3AM at some karaoke party in Midtown Manhattan. The next day I am leaking out of every orifice, except, for once, my arse.

So now I have anti-biotics coursing through my veins and the glands in my neck are so swollen that I look like a king cobra. I think the pub is going on the back burner for a while.

Woke up Monday morning to the news that Hunter S. Thompson blew his brains out at the age of 67. Can this week get any worse? Reading Hunter was the reason that I wanted to write. I'm saddened by his death but not entirely surprised; I think if you live on the edge that long you are eventually going fall over it. Insanity gets the better of everyone eventually. One of Hunter's idols was Ernest Hemingway, he blew his brains out too.

Ah fucking pass the Lemsip will ya!