As I stepped off the plane in Tel Aviv, I felt a ‘little tickle’ in my throat. The sort of ‘just a little tickle, nothing’ which, just 3 years ago would have had me barricading myself in the spare room for at least 10 days, taking my meals from Mel at the door dressed in full Hazmat. But now; just a tickle. Which has developed over the last 3 days into a full-blown… man-something. Not sure what. Hasn’t stopped me sunbathing or swimming. Certainly hasn’t stopped me eating. But at night it bothers me. All fucking night. And you know the rule: anything that bothers me is going to bother Mel. We ‘share’. That’s love.

And that’s all so much sympathy cravings, attention seeking, I get that. We’re all a bit Munschausen at times. But this morning my voice started to ‘go’. Just words weren’t coming out fully. “Pass me the schmaltz herring, darling” at breakfast became “-ass -a tz—errin—ling”. Ok, I probably didn’t need another bit of herring anyway but this is cause for great and grave concern. The very thought that I might be saying things of massive importance, of global significance, of profound scientific innovation or political creativity, and it could get lost in some pre-laryngitial mish-mash is of deep concern to all mankind. For the duration of this ailment I shall be recording every word uttered on my phone. Just in case. The complete, uncut recordings
will be available on Spotify from tomorrow under ‘The Lord has Spoken’. Even if he was only asking for another toilet roll.

And here’s a thought. ‘We’ can now choose to ‘identify’ as whatever gender, sex, hybrid, monster or thing we so choose. The arguments against are all along the same lines, vis a vis; you were ‘born’ as one definitive ‘thing’, biologically and now you choose to change it. And yet society is being forced to accept, for the sake of not wishing to offend a very few but very noisy minority, you are allowed to change how you are described.

So, despite being 67 on Friday, I IDENTIFY as a man of 42. And if you disagree, if you prove empirically that this is wrong/stupid, if you even challenge my assertion, I will fucking cancel you, murder your children, rape your pets and MAKE YOUR LIFE HELL!!!

So on Friday, we’ll be singing “42 today, 42 today, ee ai addiyo, 42 today.”

Happy Tuesday, unless it identifies as Wednesday

A xxxx