Wonky wrist-itis and talking to God on the big white telephone

Yes, another blog that's taken quite a while to write. The gaps between blogs seem to get bigger all the time. It's not that I don't enjoy writing them, or that exciting stuff happens - I mean, that thing, with the tiger, in Belize, that was ace.

No, it's just that I'm writing all over the place at the moment. I'm blogging about films and TV and getting total strangers either telling me I'm an idiot or that I make them 'laugh out loud at work' - which is nice (unless the latter is the CEO of my company, and he's reading the magazine I edit). I'm writing my other blog, the one no-one knows about, not even me (am I making that up? you'll find out? Or will you?). Then I'm writing this other thing, which is kind of why I'm here now - digging up old jokes and repurposing them for another use.

And the other reason is that I've been sick over the past month or so. First up, my hand stopped working. Now, that's worrying for most people, but for writers, mime artists and lonely teenage boys, it's downright catastrophic. I had a bout of, what is technically called, erm, wonky-wristitis. That meant my left hand couldn't grip properly and I had to sleep with it elevated (i.e. on a pillow, not in a facist salute all night).

Checked out by a specialist I had a variety of treatments including some light physio, a brace to keep it in position, oh and a RUDDY MASSIVE NEEDLE INTO MY WRIST JOINT. To be honest, that didn't hurt at all, because I had local anaesthetic. So if you have to have it, you'll be fine.

I am, of course, lying. It was bloody awful. Worse than toenail surgey. Worse than turning on TV and finding all channels have Myleene Klass on. I actually had to laugh out loud, really loud, for 15 seconds as the sadistic kind man pumped cortisone into my joint.

Well, the good news is that it seems to have fixed it. Which was great, as until then I had a wrist limper than John Inman, in a special zero gravity version of Are You Being Served?

Then, a few weeks later, I came down with food poisoning. Now, don't believe the hype, it's not the glamourous condition that people have hyped up it up to be. One dodgy curry starter seems to have been the source. A mixed kebab. Well, it was mixed when it came back up.

2 days until I could eat properly. A week until I could function like a human again. Alright, maybe my fault for being a fatty, but seriously - does it have to be that nasty? Can't the human body have an 'undo' facility that doesn't last the best part of a week?

So that's my excuse. Wonky wrist and wonky, well, I won't go into more detail than that. That and all the writing. Still, nice to pop by and find that people are still happening by this page and even leaving comments on old posts.

And I thought I was the sick one...