I'm getting the flu for Christmas. I originally wanted a Play Station 2, but there you go, seems I'm stuck with the shit end of the stick as usual. It doesn't surprise me though. Everywhere I go at the moment there's some old biddy or kid sneezing and/or coughing their disgusting germs all over the place. The idea of covering up their mouths appears to be an alien concept to them. I was standing in Iceland the other day and some middle-aged woman coughed so violently into my face that my hair parted. I had an urge to strain down a copious amount of snot from my nostrils and spit it at her, shouting, "How do you like it you foul, diseased old hag?" Some wizened old goat outside on Lord Street beat me to it though...emptying most of his lungs onto the pavement without giving a stuff and causing a hazard that no doubt some other old prune would be suing the council over by the end of the day.

Nobody seems to give a shit about anything or anyone else nowadays. In fact, I'm so sick and tired of the ignorance of the average human being that I've decided to give up my so-called 'writing and cartooning' career next year. My books are too complicated and confusing for the Douglas Adams fans it appears and my cartoons aren't cute and cuddly enough for the newspaper-reading public of America (grow up and act your age folks) so I've had enough. I've decided to become a cricketer instead. I'll join the England squad because they don't need any talent. Just the ability to lose spectacularly over and over again and not give a shit. Why would they? They still make millions whilst failing pathetically. Sounds like just the sort of job I've been in training for all of my life.

My throat's sore and my ribs hurt. No doubt I'll have developed pneumonia for New Year. I feel like shit...but I've just had my breakfast so it'll have to wait until I get to the cafe where, if experience is anything to go off, they'll serve me some up whether I ask for it or not.