Alanis Morissette can bugger right off

Ah yes, 'irony'. I've been told in the past that there's a film where people have to provide a definition of irony to get a job, or win a ferret or something, and apparently it's rather good, but I've never seen it. According to my Collins English Dictionary irony is a noun and in this context means: 'incongruity between what is expected to be and what actually is, or a situation or result showing such incongruity.'

My definition is a little less verbose and doesn't use the word 'incongruity' twice: 'Irony is God's way of telling us she's bored.'

Well, looks like she's bored again. I've been on antibiotics for weeks now. Double doses too, none of your girly single pills for me! And today is my very last day on the damn things. Sound bells and trumpets! Things might actually start tasting the way they should again. A glass of wine will no longer be verboten. No more feeling dizzy and nauseas. The idea is that all these nasty pills have been preventing my surgically attacked nose from developing some sort of horrendous infection and having to be amputated. Leaving me with some sort of bionic nose, with a flashlight in it, and a secret radio, and maybe every time you sneeze poison darts shoot out and kill people. Which sounds cool, till you take hayfever into account. The death toll would be horrendous.

Anyway, so no more antibiotics after lunchtime today. Double hurrah, because I have an appointment: HarperCollins Down Under have flown Murray Waldren (he writes for the Australian and is something of a literary bigwig) over to meet with some of their authors, and today he's been conned into visiting Aberdeen and me. Poor sod...

Actually Aberdeen looks like it's on its best behaviour at the moment (thought that could change very quickly) -- blue skies, sunshine, and a wind just this side of stripping the nipples off a polar bear.

Ah yes -- the irony bit. Here's me got an interview with Mr Waldren today, and another with Radio Clyde tomorrow, just coming off a month's worth of antibiotics, and it feels like someone's running up and down the back of my throat wearing crampons. OK, so it's probably just a virus and antibiotics don't do viruses, but still: give me a break! I need to make a good impression with the Antipodean press so I can con HC into sending me over there for some sort of tour / festival. Then I can eat all the prawns and Morton Bay Bugs in the place and drink all their wine! Bwahahahahahaha!

Right, I'm off to dose up on Strepsils and Lemsip. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll just pretend I’m Simon Kernick, he sounds like he’s gargling with gravel at the best of times. No one will be able to tell the difference ;}#