I’m as a bored as the boyfriend of a virgin who won’t let him finger her.

And here is your special sick cup’. I watched as my mother put beside my bed a bright pink cup with Bratz dolls on it complete with bendy straw.

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‘I also thought you might feel like some toast’ she passed me half a slice of buttered bread.
‘Where’s the rest of it?’ I asked.
‘Well you are bed ridden Lou, so logic would have it – less movement means less food. I’m just looking out for you, you’re getting older, you’re not as agile as you once were – now you’re 30 short and curvy is just a stones throw away from short and boxy.’
I pushed the bread aside and glanced at my frustratingly incomplete DVD collection – how was I expected to watched Series 3 of the West Wing when I was missing the last episode of Season 2!
I’d recently been diagnosed with a flu of sorts and had now been in bed for coming on three days and to say I was bored and frustrated with my lack of activity was like saying that you weren’t really surprised that Peter Andre and Jordan broke up – yes, in short an understated lie.
My mother pushed my legs over as she sat down next to me and touched my forehead with all the maternal care of a woman who once banned her 14 year old daughter from watching the Wonder Years 15 years earlier (something she is still yet to get over).
‘So do you want me to bring the phone in?’
‘What for? I asked, sucking down on my plastic straw.
‘It’s just…don’t you have to call all of your sexual partners over the last 12 months and tell them you’ve caught something?’
‘No, no I don’t have to do that.’
‘I think you’ll find it’s the law these days Lou, they’re putting people in jail who don’t disclose they’re HIV positive, you don’t want to go to jail now do you?’
‘I don’t have AIDS.’
‘I didn’t say AIDS Lou, I said HIV, but hey if you bothered listening I wouldn’t be forced to repeat myself.’
‘It’s the flu mum, I have the flu, the flu is not a sexually transmitted disease.’
‘Well not yet it isn’t.’
‘I don’t think it ever will be mum, it’s an airborne illness.’
‘So was chlamydia once Lou.’
“No it wasn’t mum.’
..and that was the point at which I found myself Wikipediing ‘airborne sexually transmitted diseases’ just to prove a point – it was a shallow win.
Left to my own devices I spent the rest of the morning using the word ‘fisted’ in and out of context on my friends Facebook walls, in general conversation with my very confused father….
‘…see my fist looks better in a glove.’
‘That’s great Lou.’
‘Do you what the technical term is for a fist in the glove?’
‘No I don’t Lou’
‘Come on…just guess.’
‘I’m not guessing Lou, I’m trying to finish my tax.’
‘Well your tax can just go get fisted.’
‘That makes absolutely no sense Lou…maybe you should go back to bed.’
‘I’ll go back to bed when you guess what a fist in a glove is called!’
‘…and look I know you’re not well and everything Lou but maybe you should put some pants on?’
I pulled my t-shirt down a bit further – I was sick and as such would remain pant free until I better – who was he to cage me in!
‘A fist glove! – come on hi-five’…for his own personal reasons my father did not return my hi five sentiment, but I returned to bed triumphant that my fusing of the word fist and glove together would translate into comedy gold at my next stand-up spot.
Back in bed I noticed that one of my close friends had blocked me as a friend after I wrote on her wall….’small Asian woman looking for good fisting recommended you.’
I thought it was hilarious – she not so much. Left with little options I decided to call her.
‘What do you want Lou, I’m in a script meeting.’
‘I just rang to say I’m sorry bout what I wrote on your wall.’
‘You’re not sorry Lou.’
‘No, I’m not really.’
‘I hate it when you’re sick, most people revel in having a few days off but you turn into a child Lou, a child that I’m so glad I never gave birth to – you know why we always look down on your mum Lou? cause the only reason she had you was could Catholics couldn’t afford abortions because they weren’t allowed money back in the 70’s’
‘I don’t think finance is the reason Catholics don’t have abortions.’
‘Name me one wealthy Catholic?’
‘Jackie Onassis?
‘She was an American Lou, an American Lou, maybe you should catch up on your general knowledge while you’re all laid up.’
‘I’m not laid up.’
‘Probably a good idea given you’re mum told me about the STD’
‘Oh for crying out loud the flu is not an STD’
‘Someone had to fuck the pig in the first place.’
‘I don’t have swine flu and I don’t think swine flu is a result of someone fucking a pig.’
‘That’s how AIDS started.’
‘No one fucked any pigs to make AIDS.’
‘Someone had to fuck something’
‘Can we please stop talking about fucking, I’m not feeling well.’
‘Doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t get a leg over’
I hung up on her; she would unblock me eventually and I had bigger fish to fry – I logged back onto Facebook only to find another message from a friend asking me not to message them anymore until I was feeling better, they were worried about getting sick from me  -fine! I had other things to keep me occupied, like dressing my dog in hats and taking pictures for the internet….oh my god, I really hope I feel better soon, I’m only one step away of watching The Gilmore Girls without any sense of irony.

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