In the underrated 90s classic ‘Outbreak’, the pandemic virus at least had the decency to kill Kevin Spacey. This one is not only awful; it’s got no decency at all.
There’s an incredible amount of uncertainty, fear and tragedy going on at the moment and it’s really a time for everyone to come together as a community and be thinking of others rather than themselves – but I am sort of a comedian, so as is tradition for such creatures, this will all be about me.
The saga of the broken leg has gone on for about 9 weeks of staying inside now, but there was a bit of light at the end of the tunnel, as I started physio this week and am now allowed to move around on crutches a bit. I was looking forward to going out. But it turns out, now the whole country has to stay in. Worse still, it turns out, due to the tablets I take for my colitis, I’m actually in the high-risk category and I’m not allowed out for at least another 12 weeks. Luckily, I find tragic irony very funny.
I know a lot people are worried about the enforced isolation and the working from home – that by the time you’ve achieved those lists you’ve made of all the things you’re going to get done, all those things you’ve always talked about but never had the time for, you’ll be bored shitless and left with nothing to do. I’d like to assure everyone that after 9 weeks, I have achieved precisely chuff all of the things I promised I would. The human spirit is beautiful, resilient thing.
The weirdest thing is this is such seemingly cataclysm time in the world and the main effect it seems to have had on me is that it’s extended the eternal question that seems to drive every minute of my waking existence – should I have another biscuit. Don’t have another biscuit, you’re getting fat. No, one more, you deserve it, you’re injured and stuck inside. No, don’t have another biscuit. Well, one more won’t much of a difference. I drop so much chocolate on my bed in the course of a day I look like I've come up with a seriously unsanitary solution to the great toilet paper shortage of 2020.
If you've read any previous posts in this blog, you'd have realised my current obsession seems to entirely be based around eating. I did a show called 'Dan vs Food' before. I should've saved it for this blog. I'm nothing if not both a fit and interesting man. I should write articles for men's health magazines.
As I lay on the bed, barely moving from day to day, my breasts are now so big, as they rest on my massive stomach, they give me the appearance of a lackadaisical Buddha.
Which I guess makes me very wise. So, let me use that wisdom with this. We need to find that monkey.
And you know the drill. Don’t be cool and ignore the warnings and go out everywhere licking everyone. Don’t ignore the cough. Or the temperature. And wash your hands, you mucky buggers.

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