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Thursday 8th June 2023


Hey look, I’ve had a good three weeks of not being ill this year, I can’t complain. Of course it’s time for me to be poorly again. It’s probably just a coincidence that I’ve started work again and that’s knocked me out. Maybe it’s time to retire, but apparently the people who I have my mortgage with disagree about that. 
I woke up a bit dizzy and nauseous. I tried to walk it off, by walking the dog, but that just made things a bit more spinny and sicky, so I went back to bed. I think it’s probably just an ear infection and that might even joyously be a hangover from the bug I’ve had for most of the year. It’s been recurring a little bit, but today was the first time it was this bad and didn’t go away. So I went back to bed, finished off listening to the excellent Warlock Effect and slumbered til about 2pm. 
I felt better for the rest, but now had a dodgy tummy to add to the equation. Hooray.
Obviously having had a supposedly serious problem in the last couple of years - still not really processing that that was actual cancer - things are slightly concerning when something else goes wrong, but I don’t think this is anything to worry about. I hope not anyway, as I filled in an e form for my local surgery and they said they will get back to me by 6pm tomorrow. Which is fine as long as I am not very ill. And it’s not like very ill people need the doctor.
My daughter watched an episode of the Simpsons where Homer has heart attacks and nearly dies and then came downstairs after bedtime to say she was worried about me dying and then (rather quickly) about herself dying. It’s a tough deal when you realise you’re not going to be here forever and I was obsessed with the idea of death from a similar age and convinced I would die young. It seems I might have been wrong. But I think I was also operating on the belief that if I predicted my own death then it would be too much of a coincidence if it actually happened, so the joke’s on you fate. I totally tricked you. 
I think Phoebe was partly hoping to stay up late and watch TV, but she was also genuinely shaken by existential dread and what can a parent do? Only tell her that we’ll all be fine. I remember my dad calming my fears by telling me that he wouldn’t die and I wouldn’t die (I was 28 years old at the time) and he has been proven 100% correct. So I can tell Phoebe the same. And if I die what’s she going to do to make me pay for my lie? Nothing! She won’t be able to because I’m dead. Ha ha ha. The joke’s on her. And fate. Only I win.

I did, at least manage to do some booking for RHLSTP. Ed Byrne is going to be my guest on 19th June and Paul Sinha, Alison Spittle, Elf Lyons and Micky Overman will be the guests on my short “Edinburgh Fringe” season at the Bill Murray, Angel, LONDON. Which is near my house and won’t cost me £20,000 to be a part of. All details here. The Bill Murray is a small venue and I sold out all my other shows there, so book quick for those. And it’s cheaper at the Leicester Sq Theatre if you buy your tickets quickly too!
And at the end of the month we’ll be announcing a new RHLSTP tour, with 40 dates all around the UK and also in Dublin, which isn’t part of the UK but I will do my best to persuade them to join us. They must look at us and envy our freedom from the EU.  Badgers and Plussers will get the tour dates first,

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