Freshers' flu, what a drag. But I suppose it was bound to happen. Cooped up on poorly ventilated buses with scores of choking, sneezing youngsters. Having enthusiastic students bound up to you in the first week declaring that they too have fallen foul of this autumnal menace. And lo, so it was that your humble scribe has been sat on the sofa with a hot water bottle, a blanket, and Tory party conference for company. Yes, I'm begging my antibodies to kick this blight into touch. No one should have to sit through Boris Johnson's oh so funny gags.
As such there's no proper post this evening. Instead I've reached into the archive and retrieved this. Okay, my taste receptors are malfunctioning but now and then uncool and supercheesy acts turn out works of genius. This was one such occasion: