I woke up and everything wasn't quite right. I am still run down from Edinburgh and have just been pushing onwards, then had to drive to Brighton and back last night, but most relevantly I had made a chilli on Monday, reheated it on Wednesday and then reheated it again on Thursday... I had food poisoning.
Which wasn't great news as I had a very full day. Collings was coming round early to do our 29th podcast and then I was heading into town to record an episode of a new show, Argumental, for the Dave Channel. I really could have done without being ill.
Luckily it was a totally debilitating illness. The worst of it, from Collings point of view in any case, was that I was producing bilious, tear-inducing, sulphorous burps. They burnt my throat as they emerged and from his reaction were clearly not much fun once they were released into the wild. But such things teach us interesting information about the Collings. He decided to mask the stench by using his stick deodorant as a modern day pomander, which was not only an unusual first thought solution to the problem, but also revealed that he uses Nivea deodorant. It says "For Men" on it, as if such a thing is possible. Nivea is for women. What kind of a man would choose to use that? He claimed it was his emergency stick and that at home he deodorises with oat milk mixed with homeopathic liquids, but it was as if God had visited this plague of stinky burps on me so as to reveal more about the Northampton misfit.
I had experienced such burps once in my life before, when I was about 12 and was returning from holiday in France with my mum and dad. Unsettled by the ferry voyage (remember when you used to have to get a boat to go to the continent?) and full of chocolate and obviously a little ill I did burps that tasted exactly the same as today's ones (isn't it amazing how memories of taste and smell are so accurate. It was absolutely disgusting, but I remember quite liking it, despite the fact that I felt quite bad, as because of my malady I didn't get into trouble for burping. And the eructations that were emerging were fascinating in all their unholy terror.
Despite me not being on top form and having a bin beside me in case I was sick I think we managed an OK hour of nonsense. But my memory is a bit hazy.
Then I was straight in a cab to record the TV show. I was quite nervous about it. I haven't done a lot of TV panel shows and this one had quite a scary element where the spotlight is entirely on you as you are expected to put forward an argument about a subject selected for you by the host (well by the producers really, but you get the point). Even though you are given the subjects in advance it is still quite a challenge to come up with unrehearsed material and one of the rounds called on me to talk about the phrase "Money Can't Buy You Love" arguing for the proposition and then on the sound of a buzzer then to argue the opposite without missing a beat. I was unusually quite scared about it and it didn't help that I wasn't on top form and worried about blinding team mate Marcus Brigstock with my stomach acid belches. But luckily things were a little more settled and I got through it all OK. By the end I was quite enjoying myself. I'll let you know when the show is going to be on. I think it was quite a funny one.
