Ten years ago - certainly under the influence of cold medicine - I drew a pretty thoroughly disgusting cartoon called "Moe and Wally - Tonsils of Doom". In it, Moe and Wally attack an innocent uvula, and it was, sadly, autobiographical.

So Moe and Wally are at it again. Yesterday I went to the doctor and had the fleshy little bastards swabbed. I was hoping for a bacterial infection, not because I have any fondness for streptococci, but because I wanted to be able to enlist the aid of antibiotics.

But it’s viral, so all I can do is rest and drink lots of fluid. The irony, of course, is that I got sick in the first place because I wasn’t getting enough rest - my malicious tonsils take advantage of the slightest weakness. Still, I suppose it’s an odd plus that under stressful conditions I can always count on a physical breakdown before a mental one.