I shuffle uncomfortably in my chair. I have stomach cramps, so I'm at the doctors. I woke up in the morning and my stomach hurt. I figured it was some kind of indigestion, which in itself is pretty rare. I'm just the sort of guy you'd expect to get indigestion, I eat too fast, I eat too much, I eat everything and anything. But I never actually get indigestion- I figure my stomach is just used to the abuse. Still, I'd spent a whole weekend sitting in the sun eating olives and ostrich biltong, so it wasn't exactly suprising when I woke up feeling crook. I popped into the corner store on my way to work. I quite like my corner store. I'm in there about three times a day and while the two guys behind the counter have never really responded to my cheery enquiries as to how their day is going, I get the feeling that they quite like me, too. They nod at me when I come in the door.

"Hi, do you guys have any antacid?"

"No, no antacid."

I get the feeling they don't know what I'm talking about, and I have to admit I've never done this before either, so I don't know what to ask for myself. Still, they must have something. I crane my head around them to see what's near the painkillers. I see something called Pepcid-two.

"How about that stuff, then?"

By the time I've gotten to work it feels like someone has grabbed my intenstines in two fists and is twisting them round. It comes in spasms and waves- on peaks I literally double over in pain. I tell Katie that if my situation hasn't improved by ten, I'm calling a Doctor and going home. I'm sort of suprised by how sad I am at the thought of having to leave work early. The feeling has gone by ten. It's back at ten-thirty. I tell Katie if it hasn't gone by eleven I'm calling a Doctor and going home. It's gone by eleven. It's back at eleven-thirty. You see where I'm going with this.

At two I finally break (the pain's so bad I'm like, sweating and stuff. I don't cry out, though. When you're a kid all sorts of pain makes you scream and cry out. When you're an adult it kind of seems a bit pointless. Who are you crying out to? The pain was ostensibly the worst pain I'd been in for, ooh, ages, but I still didn't make any noise. What would be the point of that?) and call the Doctor. I tell Katie I'm off in half an hour and I struggle to get as much done as possible before I leave. I'm kind of annoyed that there's still loads of work to do when I finally exit.

My Doctor is tiny. He makes a terrible joke every few minutes and then spends the next minute sort of giggling to himself. It's actually kind of cute. The last time I saw him he wrote one of his jokes into the prescription. The time before that he name-dropped his own award into the prescription. His handwriting is unreadable and his spelling is atrocious. I kind of think for a minute that if I'd applied myself a little, I could have been a Doctor. Then I remember that sick people gross me out a little and it never would have worked.

I tell him my symptoms and he says it's the fifth time he's heard those symptoms today. It wasn't indigestion, something is going around. I pull out the crumpled pack of Pepcid-two.

"Those won't have helped." he says, unhelpfully.

We discuss my wide variety of complaints. Beyond the stomach ache, I have a cyst under my left ear (it looks like an enormous pimple, it's awful). I ask if I can get it removed. He says the NHS doesn't pay for cosmetic surgery, so I tell him my mother had cancer and had a lump removed from her ear. He grudgingly writes me a referral. Geez dude, it's not like they charge you for it.

He asks if I've had my flu vaccination this year. I say I don't even remember the last time I had a flu vaccination. He says that's not so good, and goes to get a syringe to jab into me. While he's gone, I start reading whatever's on his desk. I can't really help it, I have this thing. It's sort of like attention-deficit disorder, except I don't really have trouble holding my attention on one thing for long periods of time. I read books cover-to-cover without moving. I have loads of focus. I just have trouble doing nothing. If I'm not reading or watching or listening or consuming information in some fashion, I go a little nuts. Tube journeys with nothing to read are my worst nightmare. Getting to sleep is a real pain. I have loud thoughts.

The document on his desk reads a bit like this:

Patient Name Andrew Link dob 20 July 1921 - You prescribed Hexadodramine to patient on 20/04/06. You did not ask patient what other medications he was on, and so did not learn that patient was already on Lithium, which causes hypertension when mixed with Hexadodramine. It is very important that establish pre-existing medications before prescribing new treatments.

Patient Name Amanda Poole dob 21 March 1932 - You failed to take patients blood pressure before prescribing Buscopan, which raises blood pressure. Patient had elevated blood pressure and this condition was exacerbated by prescription of Buscopan, leading to complications with the patient. You must check every patients blood pressure before prescribing medicine that alters blood pressure!

And so on and so forth. It was, quite literally, a catalogue of errors. I started to panic a little. My doctor, it seemed, did not know what he was doing. This did not seem at all at odds with his personality, or his handwriting for that matter. I was in big trouble. He walked in with the flu virus. At least that's what he said it was. He probably picked it randomly from the shelf for all I knew. He asked me to roll up my shirt arm. Could he find a vein? What if he injected air straight into me? Was I going to be the next item on his not-to-do list?

Patient Name Danzor the Deadstructor dob 06 February 1977 - You injected a bubble of air directly into the patient, causing his heart to explode painfully. It is very important that you do not inject patients with bubbles of air. Also, you misdiagnosed his stomach cramps.

Jab. Slurp. Pop. All done. He started to write me a prescription.

"I'm prescribing you something for your stomach cramps."

"What is it?" I said, gulping loudly, my heart racing.

"Buscopan!"

Yes, it's been a long timetime, and I really should not have left you, without a dope beat to step to. But that's alright! Because we're back with another hour of good tunes, hosted (badly) by me, this time with special guest hosts Grande Cobra and special guest producer Franzor. Had loads of fun last night putting it together, and now I'm super-excited that you all get to hear it- I hope you like it!

Heyo,

there'll be another destruct\hour uploaded in a few minutes, but I thought I might take a quick moment to mention, if I didn't make it sufficiently clear previously, that you can now subscribe to the show through iTunes...which means that whenever there's a new show, it'll download right into your podcast directory (and then to your pod, assuming you've set your synch options to do so). And who wouldn't want that? If you don't use iTunes I hear there's a number of feedrippers that will also read xml files.

So, if you want to subscribe, do so by:

1. Opening iTunes


2. Clicking advanced


3. Clicking subscribe to podcast


4. Pasting "http://www.znaddanz.com/destructhour.xml" into the URL box


5. Clicking ok

And that's it! This is of course all thanks to Adrian.

Yes, it's true, that was me you saw in the Goo-ardian this weekend (er, if the photo* and the name didn't tip you off), you may now stop texting me (although I must say I'm impressed by how many of you read your weekend Guardian, well done).

If you missed it, I'm reposting the entire article below (which was oddly laid-out so you may experience temporary confusion as to what section you're in- it may be easier just to read it on the Guardian site), since I'm sure all of history will want to benefit from my wisdom. If it sounds like my wisdom is an odd series of non-sequiturs that is because they were cherry-picked or even paraphrased from an hour-long interview which I actually thought was a pretty interesting conversation. I've asked Craig (who interviewed me) for the recording and I may post it here later if it comes through (if, y'know, you just can't get enough of my views on sex).

I thought I'd also take this opportunity to clarify a few things which may sound odd without context:

• The interviews were undertaken to provide a counterpoint to the main article- they wanted to see if Decca's theories mapped out in reality. I hadn't read the article before we did the interview and it was quite freeform (it ranged all over), so I was somewhat suprised to see that the two primary theories behind the article (the pornographization of the mainstream and the internet's role in the availability of casual sex) were echoed almost directly by my own thoughts. I think the main difference is that Decca took a largely negative stance on current views on sex and sexuality, whereas I think it's part of an evolutionary process (in which feminism has played an enormous, powerful role) that will unfold largely as it should- with both positive and negative sides. That doesn't mean I think people shouldn't pick sides- that's part of the process. My side? Well, we can't go backwards -and I wouldn't want us to- but we do need to make our way forward with care and circumspection.
  
• Many people have taken the opening line as some kind of condemnation of porn on my part. It really isn't. Like all men I've consumed porn and probably will again at some stage or another. I think there's definitely nasty aspects to it but I wouldn't make a blanket condemnation of it as a media form, or indeed anyone who consumes it. My comment was specifically about how porn has (quite recently, really) set up station in the mainstream of popular culture and I think there may be some creepy aspects to that. I saw my first pornographic magazine when I was thirteen and it was almost an artifact in terms of how hard it was for a group of teenagers to get a hold of. Yet I would have to stab my eyes out to avoid similar levels of exposure to porn in my regular day-to-day apperception of television and advertising today- it'd be downright odd if I saw a dance (or R&B) video that didn't feature a lot of nekkid ladies gyrating about. That was my main point. Not that porn is bad per se, just that it's everywhere.
• I haven't been through four relationships in the past six months: I've dated four people, by which I mean, you know, you hang out with someone, go on dates, see if you get along enough to get into an 'actual' (?) relationship- admittedly the line gets blurry as you start to phase from one to the other. I get the impression this is a largely American concept, but it's definitely gaining currency over here- I'm certainly a big fan of it. Presumably the word relationship was subbed in because a lot of people don't know what I mean when I say 'dating'. Hmm. Anyway, my primary point was that while its easier to find people and get dates, it's changed the value of sex...and really, how could it not?
• "Sex has gone from being this important relationship to being a recreational activity." I'm pretty sure what I said (or at least meant to say) was: "Sex has gone from being this important part of a relationship to almost a recreational activity." I didn't mean to say the former had overwritten the latter. Sex is, of course, a very important part of a relationship- I didn't mean to preclude that option. I was just saying that that there has been a large explosion in casual sex- now people can use the internet to dial up a casual sex partner just as something to do, not as part of a relationship- I'd say this is dangerous to a person's idea as to the value of sex.
• These are all opinions based on experience (although I should say I have never used the internet to dial up a casual sex partner- although I do know people who have), not declarations of fact based on inferential reasoning. I'm not saying I'm right, nor that anyone else is wrong- but feel free to jump in if you think I am, heh.
• It's a minefield out there, people! Take care of yourselves, and each other. [wink]

*with my teenty-tiny beady eyes (God how I hate them!) and ludicrous 17-inch neck (do you know how hard it is to lose weight in your neck?). And for the record, I didn't get intentionally dressed up, I didn't even know I was being photographed until an hour before I was. That's just what I normally wear to work, for real. I'm fancy.

This is brilliant.

I am, as you all must know by now, a huge fan of AQA, the number that returns you the answer to any question you text it. Well, some genius (no doubt a fan of Join Me!) at AQA has now expanded the service to include 'Quests', that is, you text the word 'quest' to AQA and they'll send back a quest for you to complete. Send details of your location, resources and friends with your quest request, and they'll tailor-make a quest just for you.

This is hilarious to me. I've no idea how well it works, but I'm desperate to find out. Hang on, I'm questing now (just a basic quest, mind, I'm not sending any details with this one for the purposes of research. Here we are, that was quick.

Your Quest is to do a little dance. The dance should include facial expressions and be completed next to a window. When done, dare the group to repeat.

Bah! Easy. I'll go do that now. In the meantime, who wants to form a quest team with me? We meet at a pub, ask for a quest, then blog the results. C'mon, you know you want to! It'll be a blogmeet, but, ur, with a purpose! I'll get the first round in, you can't say fairer than that.

d

(big hat tip to Anne for pointing me to this)

Anyone who's ever seen me squeal with delight when the DVD player display hits 01:23:45 in a movie or scream in frustration when the ticker on 24 fails to display 12:34:56 (which is, like, every series, grrr) will understand just a fraction of the joy I am experiencing at the knowledge that at this exact moment in time, for one of only two seconds in the last century, we are experiencing the majesty that is:

01:02:03 04/05/06

Enjoy!