Somewhere between 3pm and 4pm yesterday I got a cold. I’m not quite sure what happened but it snuck up on me and made me sneeze my whole journey to Stafford last night. I don’t sneezing while driving. It feels dangerous, as though in that split second of sneezing as I close my eyes I might collide with things, and then I’ll be snotty and dead. I don’t really like sneezing at all. Apparently if you keep your eyes open while sneezing, your eyeballs would pop out during the force. I have tried to hold my eyelids open to see if this was true and its pretty impossible. Of course I don’t think I was trying that hard. I really like having my eyes where they are.

Cold’s are rubbish. Its not even a proper one, its one of those weak ones that women like to call ‘man-flu’. I hate that term. If anything ‘man-flu’ is only ‘man-flu’ and not mega flu because our immune systems are awesome and stop full flu madness. Big horrible flu should be called ‘women-flu’ and we should laugh at the person’s inability to fight such petty bacteria. It seems now that whenever a man gets ill, it is ‘man-flu’. “I’ve got the bubonic plague”, “Look at you with your stupid man-flu”. My cold is rubbish though. Its just a bit of a scratchy throat and a nose that is running consistently enough to be a competitor in 2012. 
Last night was lots of fun apart from being ill. The student’s union was rammed with 300 students who wanted to see Tony Lee mind-rape them with his hypnotistic ways. I thought it might be a bit of a rowdy one, but went up and did 25 mins and really enjoyed it. I was slightly more clubby than normal, making a couple of comments I never normally would have done. It all seemed to work though which was nice and none of the students were racist this time which was a good thing. In fact if anything they were very nice and all remembered me since I was only there two weeks ago. I tried to honor this by doing some material they hadn’t heard, but I’d forgotten what they had heard so gave up and just did whatever. Have that Stafford! Then after watching Tony tell the students how he laughs in the face of snow, I jumped in the car and drove home. 
I made a point of stopping in Watford Gap to get some tea from my favourite angry Costa Coffee man. When I arrived the service station was eerily quiet and, even more bizarrely, the Angry Costa Coffee man was exceedingly cheery. I decided there were two plausible reasons for this. 1) He had just handed his notice in or 2) he had just killed everyone in the service station. Then I noticed his name badge. It said ‘Dave’ on it. I had never seen this before. He is a tanned man with grey hair and a distinctive Italian accent, there is no way his name is Dave. It must have been the name badge of one of his victims. He also toasted my sandwich in record time, which is either because he has the power of flame hands or that everyone else who ever works in these coffee shops are idiots that can’t use a toaster. Either way I didn’t stick around for very long for fear of his murdering flame hand tendencies. I won’t be stopping there again.