The Black Plague

Well, my glans (the ones in my neck) have swollen to the size of a bullfrogs, my voice is much the same as the aforementioned frog, my skin is cellophane, and my temperature is that of a coffee maker on the boil.

For the last four days I have been ridden with what people have said is a "virus", which seems to be what people call sicknesses when they have no true idea of what they actually are.

So apologies for the lack of content, and indeed the inability of anyone to contact me by phone, as I took to M's as a convalescent home and did not have my phone charger with me, or email (M does not have a phone line in her apartment).

So anyone who was worried that I might have been the victim of a Jamie Bulger like kidnapping can rest at ease. I am in fact still around, though a pale shadow of my former self.

You know what they say, whatever does not kill you, does not kill you.

So if anyone is looking for posts that are witty, erudite, artistic or interesting in any form, you need to scroll down or reaquaint yourself with the archives of the blog which are listed down the right hand side of the page.

Ill be back when I get well, if not, this page and the others will serve as an epitaph, not one of the quality I would have liked but, you know, you can't have everything.

Back when I can.

Peace and Hope

FatherCrow