Vomiting at 125 mph

I am not one for book burning, unless you are in that scene in the Day After Tomorrow (was that what it was called?) when you are holed up in the New York City Library without fuel and with arctic conditions surrounding you. Even then, I think you should pick your book fuel carefully. Anyway, if the people trapped had thought about it carefully they would remember that Brain from Escape from New York had an oil pump in there, fools.

After 12 days of dragging a rucksack, a big satchel (some may call it a computer bag or similar, but I see it as my satchel as it also has a banana in it sometimes) and a suitcase rammed with books, I am ready to build a bonfire of Mills and Boon.

I took my wife to a plush hotel to celebrate her 40^th birthday in between fury and sciatica and we both got food poisoning, so much for luxury. To be fair to the chef, the food was delicious on the way down, but I think he needs to change the seasoning to ensure it remain delicious on the return up the gullet. The 6 hour journey of shakes, hot and cold sweats and all those delights that go with it was not my favourite trip. I arrived in Ilkley feeling woozy and wobbly and requested that the softest and roundest members of the audience were put in the front row so that my landing would be soft if I lost balance at the edge of the stage. I performed quite a lot of the show sitting down, like the boy from The Secret Garden reading about giant killer crabs.

The audience was delightful and I remained on stage so it was as much of a success as it could have been. Full blogs and nonsense will return tomorrow when I return to full consciousness. I will also return to chapter one project properly.

Tonight I am being interviewed by Scott Capurro for his show at the Royal Vauxhall Tavern. The other interviewees are Lembit Opik and Michael Barrymore, so it may be best that I have a fug in my head. I hope Lembit doesn’t bring his mouth organ, I’m really not in the mood for that.