A hanky full of freshly blown thick, glutinous mucous.
One of the sincerest joys in life for me is after one has been suffering from a particularly vigorous bout of man-flu is the aftermath.
As one is now no longer suffering the ague, all one is left with is a sinus full of green rope dying to blown and pulled forth.
Satisfying ain't the word for it.
The weekend away with the anitpodean was thoroughly ruined by both this and the fact I was in the heartland of Socialist larceny.
She rather liked the place - being a unreconstructed Leftie (you know the type, comfortable city type, plenty of money and riddled with the hypocrisy of those who embrace such coffee-table points of view)
Frankly, them lording it up with all that stolen English gold churned my stomach a bit.