My girlfriend reckons I have a cold. Personally, I’m convinced it’s a deadly cross between ebola and bubonic plague.
I don’t get colds. The mighty Stu does not get felled by the common cold! If I’m found to be taking a sick day from work, loafing in bed and feeling seriously sorry for myself, you know the good folks from the Centre for Disease Control are just outside the door donning their nuclear fallout proof outfits, complete with gas masks and quarantine plastic sheeting, all the while jabbering excitedly about the previously unknown civilisation killer epidemic currently raging within the confines of my home.
A cold! I think not!
sniff
