The rampaging spluttering pig death.

Trying to persuade your colleagues that you have regular Man-Flu and not the deadly Porcine equivalent is difficult when it feels like your liquified frontal lobe is gushing out of your nostrils.

Yes, i've got a bad cold and whilst id like a bit of sympathy I wasn't expecting sackcloth robes and a bell so i can roam the corridors on my way to accounts, moaning 'Unclean!'.

Oh well, in other news its been quite quiet. The end of the badminton season means i get my friday nights back (woot!) but i am to be the treasurer next year (un-woot).