Things have been quiet over the past twenty-four hours.

    In fact, so quiet that the telephone hasn’t disturbed us once, I’ve just discovered the reason. When I was doing the preparation for decorating the dining room I had to remove a number of cables and wires that were trailing around like bunting at a homecoming parade. One of the wires however, was obviously more important than the others.

    I’d cut the telephone wire to the main junction box.

    I mention this only in passing as the problem has already been solved thanks to a friend who is a telecoms engineer. It’ll remain our secret unless the wife reads the blog. I’m becoming increasingly convinced I should password protect it in order to protect my anatomy…or three specific bits of it to be precise.

    The main point of my post today relates in some way to the disgusting coughing fit by the mother-in-law (see previous post). Both the wife and myself have been feeling absolutely rotten over the past twenty-four hours.

    Whatever germs she's spread around the house, some must have found their way past my immune system. 

    Obviously Mrs. Snowman, (like every other woman in the world) shrugs her shoulders and goes to work, cooks, cleans and carries on with only the mildest of grumbles. Like every male on the planet with a mild flu and I consider I have a severe case of double pneumonia and therefore require constant pampering.

    The cat has decided to show me some attention of a different kind and has decided to stop using the sofa to stretch itself and sharpen its claws and has taken to use my leg instead. It did it twice today and drew blood on both occasions. When I feel better I might visit the pet store and find it a little companion to play with. I can’t make my mind up if I should buy a boa constrictor or a crocodile.

    One other nauseating incident occurred today and I’m yet to discover the culprit. The wife and mother-in-law had both retired to bed and quite naturally I needed to visit the toilet. I wander to the bathroom, turn the light on, and there it is.

    Staring back at me with its head rearing out of the water like a seal coming up for air…a floater.

    Although it was the same colour as the cat, I can say with certainty it wasn’t responsible. I know this because 1. There’s no way the cat could have perched on the rim of the toilet to deposit it and 2. It was wider than the cat’s head.

    I perform a very hasty flush and the bastard comes back.

    It was like a salmon returning to its place of birth but eventually after a few attempts it disappears round the u-bend and starts its final journey to the open sea. I might drop the odd hint during tomorrow’s dinner conversation to trace its maker but a large part of me doesn’t really want to know. I’ve already planted the seed by asking if we’re having sausages.

    The poker has been very weird today. I’ve been up and down like a hooker’s knickers. Once more the freerolls produced no monetary results so I turned in desperation to the 1c/2c tables. You may think I’m going to report another dismal display of card play…but you’d be wrong!

    At one point I was down to just 87cents and saw nearly three weeks hard work disappearing into the night but just as I was considering beating my head against the wall; the idiots find the table. It didn’t take long to figure out they hadn’t the faintest idea of what they were doing and within three hours I leave the table with my bank account reaching $4.00.

    Ok, I realise it’s only really a 35cent increase but at least it’s progress. Of a sort.

    I’ve dosed myself full of Aspirin and should be fighting fit for tomorrow’s freeroll. I’m only hoping I can drain a few more drips of sympathy from the wife.

    One final note: You may be asking how I know the previously mentioned turd wasn’t one made by myself. I shall give you the same answer I gave to the wife (for which I recieved a slap round the legs): I’ve got a wart on my arse and all mine have a groove down one side.

Starting bank:  $0