Bah. No-one believes I have bronchitis. I tell you, it's true! Last night I overdosed on strepsils before bedtime and had horrible hallucinogenic dreams all night. When my alarm went off this morning I moaned 'this is going to be a rotten day, I can just feel it.' Unfortunately there was no-one around to hear me so my forecast went for naught. I often feel that someone should be following me around, writing down all the clever wittisicms I utter. I mean, Oscar Wilde surely had someone to write down all his stuff, right? And I've already got the hair.
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