thePeaSoupFiasco

December 9th, 2005 - 17:50

Real men don't need tissues

My mate JJ always used to say (and probably still does) real men don't eat quiche. A little harsh I thought, I always liked quiche. I even make a pretty mean quiche. I'm not sure where this puts me in his mind.

Anyway, that saying popped into my head as I was in Superdrug, stocking up on the above. Real men don't need tissues. When you get to the checkout armed with this many 'cold repellent' products, you can actively see the checkout assistant try and take three steps backwards, until she realises she can only take half a step in her booth.

So far this winter, I've taken pride in the fact that while people around me have been dropping like flies from the first effects of winter viruses, I have stayed strong. Well, you know what they say about pride. The back of my throat and my, now incumbent, cold virus have been battling it all week and I can confidently say the cold has one.

It's what the Irish call Murphy's law. The only worse time it could have come is Christmas day. And that may have not been so bad, I'd be looked after by my family and get to stay in bed all day. No, it's come now. The day before I'm doing my second wedding shoot and the day before our Christmas party, where a cornicopa of attractive friends will be present. There's nothing more gutting than buying a large bunch of mistletoe, knowing you have a honker that could outshine Rudolph from 200 metres. Which coincidentally will be as close as anyone dares come tomorrow night!

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