Man-Flu

I have always found this term amazingly insulting, particularly since it was first used of me when I was in my younger years, and shortly after it was used I was diagnosed with pneumonia, hospitalised for a month and effectively bed-ridden for another five after that. That was fun. Hallucinations, respiratory problems whenever I tried to so much as move, and according to various people I was simply suffering from man-flu.

Anyway the reason I am bringing this up now is that I am suffering from flu. I am not suffering from man-flu, where the basic symptoms are of a cold but the apparent suffering is worthy of the black death. In fact soon, as I have been for the last few days of suffering, I will drag myself from my bed, check to see whether my temperature is maintaining its average of 104C, pull on clothes to suit my new look, and make myself be active without complaining. All of the complaining I may have wished to do, but refrained from, the last few days will be occuring in this post.

Each of the last few nights I have spent several hours wrapped up in a thick duvet, with three portable electric heaters blasting huge quantities of heat at me. This is an attempt to feel warm, or at least not cold enough to have chattering teeth and be shivering. My head feels like it has been carefully stuffed with cotton wool, and my nose feels like someone has stuffed corks into it. My throat meanwhile feels like I have deepthroated someone wearing a sandpaper condom. All in all, I do not feel particularly well, and the next person to accuse me of whining or having man-flu will be subjected to a sound verbal, and if I feel up to it physical, thrashing.

So now I need to concentrate on concealing my symptoms, in order to meet Russian to go to the cinema tonight. Should be interesting at least. I still cannot quite figure out whether or not I could push my luck with her and get away with it, and until I do so I am not taking the risk. I should also be visiting Sweetie some time in the next few days, before the New Year, and my moral dilemma has been heightened once again. See, before it was just that I was willing to potentially have some fun with my friend's sister, nothing serious. Now however he has threatened me, trying to scare me off her. I do not take threats well.

The Art of the Insult

I have grown bored on the insults that people resort to in these days of simplicity and convenience. Such thrown insults as wanker, bastard, bitch and so on are simply too light in their substance. They are a fast food format, they are the McDonalds and the Burger King of the slight against another person. They may be filling temporarily, but that full feeling is only temporary, and so lacking in taste and texture that you will soon wish you had another. These insults are truly pitiful, there is no emotion to them, and no impact, they even appear as friendly nicknames on occasion.

What happened to the days when killing insults were used? When people would duel to the death, or be provoked into violence or fleeing by a well-crafted phrase? Why do we no longer take the time to construct an insult that will reduce a person to tears or pale-faced shaking in their boots? Are our enemies no longer worth this effort, or has the diet of flavour-free entertainment robbed us of our imagination and reduced us to simply parrotting those insults and curses we hear through our favourite media?

So I say no more! No more will I resort to this simple, ready-packaged insults devoid of depth and impact. From this moment on any insult I utter will be carefully crafted, unique to whomever I am insulting and with the full force of my passion and belief in the need for them to be cursed or insulted contained within it. No more shall I say simply 'you wanker', when instead I may say 'you are an ignorant cur who should have been cast unto the rocks at your birth and dashed apart by the waves', no more will I say simply 'fuck you' when I can instead throw 'I hope for the sake of the future of humanity that any children you have are still-born and any wife you may take poisons you in your sleep'.

I am now going to research the historical greats of the insult, Shakespeare, Churchill, Wilde and many others besides. I will study their skills and arts, and return armed in verbal warfare.