Still Infected

Why is it that those organising social functions believe that their quality is measured in how far they exceed legal decibel levels? As if you can only have a good time if you not only can't hear what others are saying, but can't even tell that you're shouting except for the fact that your throat hurts.
When i got back, my ears were ringing. Loudly. Or I thought they were, until I left the room and it stopped. Damn stupid heating system.

I'm in a frustrated mood - my darling pooter is still infected with greeks in a wooden box. I've acquired a smorgasbord of anti-viral software, since my last attempt was insufficient. Hopefully, if I use them all at once, one of them will prove to be a magic bullet (but not two, because then they might cancel out eachother, or realise their bargaining power, form a union, and go on strike).

You may think this is irrelevant to your life, but the fact is, if some vestige of the bastiddy thing survives all that medication, we'll have a mutated, immune strain on our hands (like M.R.S.A.), and we'll all be doomed. A.T.M.s will start dispensing I.O.U.s; television channels will run nothing but reruns of Neighbours, and the world as we know it will be over.