Not a good start to the day.

    As you have probably gathered from yesterdays report there was a specific item that was cause for concern.

    The wife’s curry.

    What in the name of Satan’s scrotum did she make it with?

    I think she might have used Semtex and sulphuric acid rather than curry powder.

    I made it to the toilet just in time before the World exploded from my bottom. I’m not saying it was hot but I think at one point while I was sat there my arse went down for a drink. My screams could be heard for miles.

    After sitting there for several hours I decided it was safe to return to bed. By this time I’d exhausted all the reading material that I could reach without standing up, including ‘The Da Vinci Code’ from cover to cover, the entire previous days newspaper and the back of a toothpaste tube.

    I eventually sprayed several cans of air freshener around the room to ensure the next occupants safety and moved very slowly back to the bedroom. I took the precaution of wearing two pairs of underpants in case something dreadful happened and slid between the sheets with the wife snoring beside me.

    But there was worse to come.

    She also had the curry but had combined it with Jack Daniels and Coke. Taken in isolation these produce horrifying results but together they’re lethal. I’d just managed to wiggle myself into a safe position when it started.

    The wife dropped a fart.

    And not one of those little bubble pops of flatulence.

    This sounded like an elephant coughing. Another quickly followed...but louder. And this one wasn't your garden variety trumpet, it was an evil, vengeful fart. Anyone standing outside the room must have thought I was getting a round of applause. With the bedclothes flapping around like a spinnaker in the Americas Cup, I jumped out of bed like a startled rabbit and rushed headlong for the door, with hindsight I should have dived through the window. It was fucking unbearable. They use less toxic gases to execute prisoners in Texas.

    I haven’t had the courage to venture back in there as I write this but I wouldn’t be surprised to find all the paint had peeled from the walls and the mattress melted into the bed frame. The entire first floor of the house now has a half-life similar to plutonium.

    Not surprisingly I missed the first freeroll of the day as I was incarcerated in the toilet again but managed to make the second. Once more it was nice to see a couple of wards of mental patients playing all in poker for a few rounds. Isn’t it nice their doctors allow them computer access?

    I managed to reach 4,000 chips before being wiped out by K-7 off against my pocket 10’s after a couple of re-raises pre-flop so I’ve decided to change my tactics for the midnight $100 freeroll.

    I’m going to throw caution to the wind and play like a maniac. We’ll see how far it gets me. I shall, of course, offer a prayer to the poker Gods before starting so I might be ok.

    In the meantime I shall continue to drink large quantities of lemonade in an effort to replace every ounce of moisture that has seeped from my body over the day.