Sick with Worry

This Winter some particularly nasty bugs have hit Gladstone, and they’ve spread with the sort of speed not seen since the Middle Ages, when a sailor stepped ashore in London and said, “Say folks, what do you think about these black spots?”

To ward off viruses, I’ve been making a special ‘Flu Brew’; a blend of citrus juices, herbs, olive oil, chilli sauce, vinegar and crushed garlic, stirred with a spoon dipped in tea tree oil.  I don’t know if it works yet because I haven’t actually built up the courage to drink it.  Just smelling it makes me retch, but it does clear the sinuses magnificently.

As I stand gagging over my kitchen sink, I silently wish I was like my mate Lenny the Plumber; well, not the bit where he spends his days up to his armpits in raw sewerage, I am referring to his robust health, because for some reason, Lenny doesn’t get sick.  In spite of his extremely primitive approach to hygiene.

I recall the time, after a vigorous sneeze, Lenny’s false teeth plopped into a septic tank, and he immediately dived in after them.  He eventually re-surfaced, triumphantly clutching his fake fangs, and after a quick rinse under a tap, slipped them straight back into his mouth.   If you ever want help sticking to a diet then Lenny is the bloke you should be around.

That’s if you can handle the stench, because being near Len for too long will cause your sense of smell to disintegrate faster than a NSW footy fans’ hopes.  And you can always tell where Lenny’s been by the lingering trail of pong that wafts about long after his physical presence has moved on.

Risking permanent nasal damage, I once spent a morning with Len to discover the secret of his freakishly good health.  I was doing ok, even when he removed a wheelbarrow of slime from a blocked grease trap with his bare hands, but when he casually wiped his mitts on his filthy overalls, then pulled a half-eaten sandwich out of his pocket and stuffed it into his mouth, I suddenly needed to be somewhere else… anywhere else.

Now, call me soft, but I’ve decided to give Lenny’s viral immunity methods a wide berth.  And I’ve even poured my ‘Flu Brew’ down the sink (which instantly unclogged my drains), because worrying about staying healthy is making feel crook.

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