No sooner than I say that I'm not posting for a day than I get a couple of column inches in the Guardian (page hits have since quadrupled), very strange, but I feel weirdly proud about it all, mainly because I know I can't write; and my life isn't that interesting surely? Apparently I'm 'compelling', which makes me think of Derren Brown
Anyway for those who have just turned up and are wondering why I'm having an HIV test, that whole saga starts here, and continues for that month (if you like a nice read about the side-effects of the anti-viral treatment I was given).

If you are curious about some of the medical/slang terms I throw about you can have a look at this previous entry, only some of it is tongue in cheek.

My 'About me' page is here, but to be honest it really isn't that interesting – it's traditional to have 101 things, but I had trouble thinking up 81.

Once you are up to speed I recommend that you have a look at some of the links on the right of this page – there are people who write a lot better than I do.

It's now 4:40 am, and I'm bloody knackered – we haven't stopped all night, at least in part due to there only being two ambulances on from 3am until 7am covering a large area (Barking to Bow for those who know London) – and we are one part of that cover.

Four hours before I descend on the 'clap clinic' and demand (with menaces if needed) my HIV result.

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