What Is Amiss with the Swiss Kiss

Influenza still grips the Welle-Skitts in it`s sneezy, bless you, stacks of soggy tissue stranglehold. The daughter has recovered just enough to go back to school this morning, thus ensuring the virus should clobber the maximum number of households over the Christmas period. Ho ho ho. Well, at least I get to take it easier today, and that`s the important thing. Sadly, the wife is still affluent (I think that is the right term for a banker who is off with flu?). They do say it hits the elderly particularly hard.

Anyway, I blame the Swiss. They kiss like it is going out of fashion. As I have metioned before, three air kisses is the accepted norm here everytime you greet or retreat. It is not surprising that we are being stalked by a flu pandemic with all this intimate and unprotected carnal canoodling going on. If you turn up at a place where there are lots of women, say a brothel, there is simply no point in taking your coat off as by the time you have finished the greeting kissing it will be time to start all over again with the retreating kissing so that you can make your last train home. Madness!.

And the Swiss will steal a kiss whenever and where ever it presents itself. The wife was knocked off her bicycle a couple of years back and, while she lay dazed and bleeding at the roadside, a passing pervert saw his chance and kissed her on top of the head then ran off giggling.

Maybe I am feeling just a bit grumpy because I have quit smoking. I have composed a short poem in memorium to my erstwhile companion, the humble cigarette.

"You were My north, My Silk Cut, My Emphysema, My West,
My morning drag, My constricted chest,
My crutch, My Marlborough Light, My midnight walk, My old bloke pong,
I thought that cough would last forever, I hope I was wrong."

Ciao for now