The Game's Up

I got the results yesterday and went to the Doctor's surgery this morning. "Well Mr Combo" said the Doctor, scanning the four pages, "what you have to do is diet. For three months. No cheese, no eggs, no fried food, no pork-based products, no duck, no goose, nothing high in fat. Your cholesterol is too high. Not high enough for medication but still too high." He then looked up from the analysis and fixed me through his half-moon spectacles, "and your liver is in crisis. I will allow you half a glass of wine at mealtimes and no more." "Does that include breakfast?" I asked brightly. "I don't really need to answer that do I Mr Combo?" "No doctor, just a little joke, ha ha, you know my way of coping with, er, bad, y'know, news." "Come back and see me at the end of January and we'll do some more tests. However the rest of you would appear to be OK. Your prostate is fine. So it's not all doom and gloom is it?"

Yes it sodding well is actually Doctor. Anyway, dear readers, what should I do? Buckle down and do what the dear doctor recommends or flick two fingers at the health fascists and carry on? I am inclined to cave in (starting tomorrow of course, November 1st, I have a dinner tonight for God's sake) and follow orders. I have always been obedient in the face of authority, that's St. bloody Custard's for you. What do you lot think I should do?

Sod off, Lady Luck

I've just had to shell out €340 to have something done to the transmission on the Panda (purchased of course from car-dealer Bruno), my Italian accountant says I'm staring down the barrel, there's a badger that has declared war on the fence around the orchard and it's slashing down outside and the bit that connects the camera to the laptop is in The Doghouse and I'm bolloxed if I'm going out in all that rain to get it. So the news about last night's run-in with Mr Booze will have to wait. Instead I would like to show you a picture of an extremely relaxed Giulio the Singer at table during THAT WEEKEND. The ten bottles of wine at a dinner when one of the party (Mrs Combo) wasn't drinking. The photograph is courtesy of T. Savage Esq. Remarkably it is in focus, which is more than can be said for the shots he took later in the evening. O tempo! O mores!