As hard as I have tried today, my humour glands have been clogged up by the onslaught of a head cold. Sharp and to the point wit has been replaced by snotty, dribbling waffle unrelated in anyway to incisive comment. A large reddening around my blown out satire gland is so embarrassing and has been causing some to stare.
I’ve already taken a handful of aspirin in the vain hope of alleviating my aching sarcasm but to no avail. My sarcasm is just pounding away painfully. My drollness has been interrupted by fits of sneezing and it has also started dripping like a tap.
This is not to mention what has happened to my jocularity. Red, sore and inflamed and no matter how much honey and lemon I take it seems to be getting worse. My normally acute sense of irony has been cut down by drowsiness and seems destined to manifest itself into a full blown coma before day’s end. All my wisecracks have been blocked-up by rampaging mucus and mercenary white blood cells looking for a fight.
But the worst symptom I have is the coughing that continually interrupts every attempt at mockery and makes me simply sound like a hooting steam train intent on derision.
All I can do I think is have a short brandy, go to bed and hope for a miraculous and probably scornful recovery.