I have a grippe. This is a French cold and makes me just as much a miserable bastard as a Scottish cold. Most of the weekend was spent moping about, lamenting my afflictions, and discovering my derrieres inability to squeeze into French bikini bottoms.
Before I could crumble any further into the foulest of moods, Raph saved the day and brought home not only copious amounts of pharmaceutical goodies, but a pair of new shoes which banished my health woes as I pranced about admiring them.
Lessons learned: 1. New shoes can solve any problem. 2. I am a walking cliche.