My column is a tad off this week. OK, make that more taddishly off than usual.
Late last week, I contracted a mystery virus. By my reckoning, it was your typical typhoid fever mixed with malaria and complemented with just a touch of the bubonic plague. The body aches were downright Neanderthal, as if a pack of crazed wallabies had just kicked me back to Adelaide. (Don’t ask.) I discovered aching body parts I didn’t know I owned. Imagine rolling over to find your lacrimal caruncle openly moaning.
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