This morning my doctor called me in for a decision on what to do about my health. Apparently if I was 65 or older he wouldn't bother (Heck, I'd probably die of old age anyway) but since I'm such a young man, he'll presribe these very special radioactive kryptonite pills.

I kid you not, the little card box vibrates with strange power all by itself. Reading the instructions is an eye-opener. Some people aren't affected, but the side effects are headaches, tiredness, nausea, and so forth.

Unless of course I'm in a smaller band of the population that are allergic to kryptonite, in which case I might suffer swollen facial features, strange skin colourations, a slight inability to father children, and freqent emptying of my digestive system from either end. Oh what fun.

If I'm very unlucky I become a hermaphrodite and suffer a loss of skin as it blisters and peels off. That's not a joke - the manual says all of this stuff. It wouldn't suprise me if I was at risk of self combusting. But hey, it'll fix my health problem no problem at all.

My New Cool Friend

The fridge is officially replaced. The old dead one is discarded, left to the elements and whichever gypsy fancies making a few quid on it. I care nothing for it, for I now have a fresh newly constructed fridge in spotless white metal and plastic.

I must say the chaps who delivered it were very helpful and cheery as they manhandled heavy metal boxes up and down my restricted width stairs. Well done chaps. A credit to your employer.

It is interesting because I had a recent discussion with one of my employment trainers. She's a biker, a serious one, and I enquired why she took up motorbiking. Actually she never really answered the question, but our conversation got around to men hanging on to a motorbike for years while women regularly change them, and that the exact opposite happens with shoes.

She has a point. Men do form relationships with machines. Mostly I suspect because they don't nag or throw tantrums, becing generally obedient inaminate objects. Probably why blokes buy sex dummies I guess.

Well, I now have a cool new friend. Nice fridge... Hmmmm....