Good people of the locality, your attention, please.
It is, you will have noticed, March. March = spring = no more winter illnesses. I will brook no argument or discussion on this point. If you think you have cold/flu, then you’re just not trying hard enough. Persistent ill-health will be met with the sternest of punishments, once I have successfully negotiated the transition from lonely passive-aggressive blog-ranter to supreme overlord of creation. (I anticipate this may take up to six weeks.) You have been warned.
I am sorry for showing such inflexibility on this point, but those of your unfortunate fellow-residents who have a pathological fear of infection (that would be me) have just about limped our way through from October by telling ourselves that the crisis will be over by March. It is simply not fair, when we skip gaily to Tesco, to find a shop full of disgusting, red-eyed, snotty-nosed, phlegm-hacking virus-facilitators. I don’t sneeze-up great gobbets of mentalism, then smear them around my face with my hand, before using the same hand to handle every single loose food item and/or hard surface in the supermarket. I expect the same courtesy from you, with your revolting physical infirmities.
While we are on the subject, the summoning of ambulances is, forthwith, a capital offence, as it causes me to panic and assume there’s a major outbreak of a hugely infectious disease in the area. Call an ambulance because you’re worried you might be dying, and you will die. The safest option is to stay at home with a tartan rug over your shoulders and a 10-pack of Lemsip. Lemsip, if you were unaware, is the universal panacea, and resolves all known physical ailments – I believe The Lancet is publishing a study next month detailing its efficacy in overcoming Severe Acute Hypovitality Disorder (or death, as it used to be known). It can certainly handle something minor, like a heart attack, or third-degree burns.
Similarly, there is no need to summon an ambulance for an acute psychiatric crisis, such as finding a close relative standing on the coffee table with a noose around his neck and mumbling through his tears about how the luminous green sofa pixies keep telling him to jump. In such circumstances, Cadbury’s (or, in extremis, Green and Black’s) produce an excellent range of treatments known as Chocolate®. One-to-two kilos of Chocolate® administered before bed, daily, should be adequate to resolve all mental health problems. (Note: as with other psychiatric medications, side-effects of Chocolate® can include severe weight-gain and Type 2 Diabetes. Fortunately, these problems can be resolved with a good, sweet mug of Lemsip.)
Following my accession to absolute power, there will be further memos on the topics of:
- the use of mobile phones whilst breathing
For now, may I recommend you concentrate on eradicating your disgusting snottery.
That is all.