The reason I’ve not been posting on here of late. After the frenzied consumerdammerung of pricemas, I’ve had a bit of a family crisis which took up my attention for a while and then, just when I thought it was safe to go back in the toaster, I get hit by the superflu from stephen king’s ‘the stand’.
Me, I never get ill. As a lifelong masochist, I piss in the eyes of colds, flus and infections. I laugh in their face and fuck them where they eat.
It’s not even macho, my insistence on keeping going as diseases attack. Rather, I just don’t get hit that hard.
Except sometimes.
Once every few years one holds me down and fucks the wax out of me. Just when I least expect it. Bends me over and re-enacts ‘the virgin spring’ – with me as the blonde one.
So, a week spent flat-on-my-back, simultaneously fascinated and repelled by the decay of my body.
I couldn’t even read, let alone write. So I’ve sucked up series one of ‘dollhouse’, a pile of random documentaries, old plays-for-today and around half of series one of ‘boardwalk empire’.

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