Daddy Allsop has got a hurtie. Well, to be precise, Daddy Allsop HAD a hurtie until this afternoon, when it was surgically attacked by Dr Aniskowicz and his sharp little scalpel. And now, where there was once an infected sebacious cyst between my shoulder blades, there is a Vesuvian crater. Well, to be precise once more, I THINK there may be a Vesuvian crater, but he has put seven stitches across its diameter and has stuck a dressing over it, leaving me with just a puzzle and an itch.
I was hoping for some pain so that I could canvass sympathy from the matrons of the village, but so far only a mild ache. Not to worry, I can fake it if necessary.
Note: I prefer green to red grapes, or any kind of chocolate. No flowers, though, there's enough pollen up my nose already.