The Three Definitions Of Flu.

Yep, I know that I’ve dealt with this subject matter already, but in light of recent events, I thought I’d broaden the topic just little further. You see, it seems that Spawn and I have the flu…again. This means that as a woman, I have already dry-walled the basement, painted the bathroom, mowed my neighbour’s lawn, and swept the pavements. Meanwhile, Spawn has watched a couple of DVDs, which have now left him feeling weak and near death.
Currently, I am coughing like a hepatitis B sufferer, whilst Spawn acts as though each cough that passes through his trachea, is not only stripping away the lining to his larynx, but also ripping a hole through the fabric of time and space itself. While every sneeze causes my head to feel as though David Beckham is playing ‘keepy uppy’ with my skull, Spawn is convinced that a life-sized neutron bomb has been implanted into the centre of his frontal cortex and is about to blow.
As for my limbs, right now it feels as though I’m being weighed down by barbells, but to listen to Spawn, you would think that he has been drop kicked, powerslammed and then held in a nelson hold, by a 250lb pro wrestler from the WWF.

Now Christmas may be the season to be jolly, but January is the season for man to whinge like a whiny man bitch. So what are the true definitions of flu?


Man-flu, is an often at times, debilitating illness that is characterised by many symptoms. (psychosomatic anyone?) One such symptom includes an agonizing affliction in the buttocks, although through the act of transference, it is usually the carers that experiences the highly unpleasant physical sensation as the cry babies  patients generally prove to be a right royal pain in the arse. Another manifestation of Man-flu, is the high pitched keening noise that emits from the victim’s emaciated bodies at regular intervals. This particular sound when vented, can not only cause mental despair and a loss of moral for the carer (who is often female) but can also make the ears of Dolphins bleed and cause one want to take their own life. Over the years, scientists have worked tirelessly to decipher the meaning  behind the keening cries of the ill male, which are often followed by the meaningless sounds of “can I have a cup of tea/sandwich.”  But they have yet to conclude whether their paycheck is worth the mental anguish that it takes to investigate such an piss awful and insignificant matter.


To date, researches have found that a teaspoon of ‘man the fuck up’ along with a healthy dose of ‘I should have killed you in your sleep,’ soon reduces the noise levels.

Other symptoms of Man-flu include:

  • The loss of use in all limbs, which renders even the most menial of tasks such as lifting the remote control, futile.
  • Feelings of victimization (“Oh God, why me?”)
  • Blindness (“I can’t find the remote!”)
  • Loss of spacial awareness and the placements of objects (“Remote, where are you?”)
  • Misplaced anger (“Goddammit woman, where’s the damned remote?”)
  • Visions causes by hallucinations (“Remote, is that you?”)
  • Impending death…Oh how we wish.


The same as Man-flu, except that the cognitive and fine motor skills needed for DVD watching and game playing, remain unaffected.



Or as it is commonly referred to by men, ‘The Bitch Sniffles’ or a cold. Woman-flu comprises of making breakfast, tending to the other ill members of the household, otherwise known as The Weak and The Feeble, keeping the house in order, loading the washing machine/dishwasher, nipping down to the shops in order to purchase provisions for said Weak and Feeble, lamenting the fact that they were all out of rat poison, preparing lunch, regretting not adding household bleach, removing and binning tissues that contain enough germs to rival Ebola and the Black Death, (according to the male members of the household) headaches from the constant eye-rolling of listening to The Weak and The Feeble bitch about their ailments like an octogenarian bitches about their constant constipation, cooking dinner, spoon feeding The Weak and The Feeble on account of their loss of limbs usage, providing soothing beverages throughout the day…through a straw (see loss of limbs) and when all is at last peaceful and quiet, sitting down, cracking open a bottle of gin and contemplating various ways in which to murder, dismember and hide the bodies of The Weak and The Feeble.


Now if you would all excuse me, I’m feeling rather tired and need to go and lie down…that’s after I’ve made breakfast, tended to the Spawn, loaded the washing machine/dishwasher, nipped down to the shops…


Don’t blame me for such a lacklustre post. I have the sniffles.


24 thoughts on “The Three Definitions Of Flu.

  1. AH YES WELL . . . . . . As a chap who has suffered and is still not entirely better having suffered MAN FLU. It was terrible too real MAN FLU not that stuff other men call MAN FLU No mine was the real deal and I was really really bad.

    Anyway I have to say you do have a good point us men do turn into total rubbish when we suffer the terrible effects of this particular ailment which I will not mention again in person for fear of being accused of milking the situation (but yes I mean MAN FLU Plus with added germs). However once we bounce back and are all healthy and bouncy again smiling and waving out bare chests at passers by I have always found (sorry when I say I, I mean another chap) that the Women of the house will imply I’m (the other chap) is a right pain in the arse . . . . .

    Sometimes being a chap means you just cant win. . . .

    Ooooo I an dead tired after all that typing I’m off for a cup of tea. . . . PHEW


    • Mr Z, I concede that it’s not an easy life having to with those of the female ilk. And you are right in your summation that if you are unwell, then we women will hound you until either the flu gets you, or we put you into an early grave. And that once you are all fine and dandy and buoyant with the joys of good health, we will rip you apart and call you names like ‘annoying’ and ‘irritating.’
      This is why, should I die and be reborn, I will ask to come back as a man…a gay man. There is no way on this earth on any other, that I will ever put up with the likes of me.

      Aww, would you like a cup of tea and one of my rock cakes to make you feel better? It’s made out of real rocks…


    • To Be Bearly Alive
      by Ernest S B Boston

      Soon it will be June,
      And things now wrong and rotten
      WiLL be so long forgotten
      And something so bold
      As to caLL itself a cold,
      When deep down inside
      Its a burnin’ up yer hide,
      And makin’ such a fever,
      That you wonder when it will ever leave her.
      And so now you know why the bears do find a reason to go dream and hibernate,
      For its a good idea to dream of a better season awhile slumbering in wait.

      Liked by 1 person

      • I I was a fuzzy wuzzy bear,
        I’d thank the lord for my fuzzy wuzzy hair…

        That ‘s the extent of my poetry Mr E.
        Seriously though, that was beautiful. I especially loved “For its a good idea to dream of a better season awhile slumbering in wait”.
        You really do have a flair for the written word. Thank you.


  2. I am just eXhausted. I think I worked seven daze in a row, (checking), yes, I think that is correct. Maybe I am not getting sick because I am studying biology, fungi in particular at the moment.


    • Mr E, I have not been working, but I have been up 7 daze and 7 Knights. The Knights are getting a bit fed up with it all and keep asking me to get off and leave them alone.

      I love the study of biology, especially looking at the inner workings of the body in close detail. But when other people do it, it’s called scientific research. Yet when I do it, it’s called sexual harassment.


      • I saw your desire to come back as a gay man. I just got finished with a biology lecture on fungi, so you could come back as a fun gay fungi guy. That almost sounds Oriental. I am currently watching a sunset remnant outside with Cooper.


        • Not a desire Mr E, more a way to avoid the wrath of womankind.

          See, now I was going to make a quip about being a fun guy, but you didn’t leave mushroom for me to do so.


        • Ah, I see what you’re trying to do Mr E. You’re trying to befuddle, my muddled and already addled brain with your clever use of wordplay. Baffled I may be, puzzled, most certainly. But my brain won’t be puddled by the rubble of the words that you have coupled together…damn, looks like it’s already happened.


  3. hahaha, this is the best definitions ever…

    You may have to take care of the ill in the household, but being alone too, sucks a gigantic load of rhino jizz. Obviously by oneself, you have less chances of recovering because not only does the remote is never near by, nor is the kitchen or the only place, other than then bed that you may want to be. The toilet.

    My neighbor suffered of something like this and a few months ago, he was found laying in a pool of his own shit and urine on his bed.

    Also he is / was (not sure what has happened to him) and older man and twice have the emergency services have been called to rescue him.


    • Wow, I was right there with ya Porkstar. I could feel the love, the empathy, the sympathy and it was a blissful feeling… riiiight up until the end.

      Thank you for that, no really. Your words of comfort have left me speechless and just a little bit queasy. As always, I know that I can count on you, in my moment of despair…sorry, I meant that I could count on anyone but YOU, in my moment of despair. 😛


  4. Awwww, fanks, fanks

    I tried to use minimum comparisons since you once told me to cut down on them. 😛 but i sure can lift your spirits up and give you comfort, as long as there is chocolate around and i don’t mean the kind that the old neighbor delivered.


  5. Omg Lily! I didn’t get thru the first paragraph before I was spewing coffee outta’ my nose! AT 11:30 at night! Hahahahahahahahahahaha! You are SO SPOT ON with this description.. Reaching back into those deep, dark crevasses of the chambers of horror I once called being married… I remember that “Man Flu” all too well and it soooo pissed me off then! Thank you for reminding me why I am happily single and shall remain so. – Feel better. Spawn too. 😉


  6. Lily, I hope you and Spawn recover from that nasty flu soon!! Your definitions are so perfect. Man-flu describes my husband every time he’s ill (or just has a tummy ache!), constant (and annoying!) whine, whine, whine, swears he’s dying when he doesn’t even have a fever, and must locate that darned remote, too weak to find it!! Oh you are so right about the Woman-flu too. Not a lackluster post at all. 🙂 Be well soon!


    • Thank you Madilyn. Spawn is much better, hence the reason why my house looks like a cyclone as tore through it. Mine however, seems to have become a stalker and won’t leave me alone, despite me telling it that I’m not interested in it’s advances.

      I think we should rename Man-flu as Whine-flu. I had to threaten Spawn with certain death a few times just to get him to stop the incessant whining. But then I guess hours of DVD watching had taken it’s toll on his poor and frail body by then.


  7. Even in a weakened state, your wit and sense of humor are as strong as ever. (…leave “mushroom” for me to do so… HA!)

    But you’re right. It’s one of life’s mysteries as to how men can endure incredible debilitating injuries on the battlefield, and keep on fighting, but bring that same man home and give him a good case of the sniffles, and he becomes a whining pain in the tush. Man flu, indeed.

    I hope you and Spawn get well soon. Happy weekend!


    • Haha! Susan, I think that my sense of humour actually gets worse when I’m ill.

      The wussy girl blouses…sorry I meant men, spend their entire time proving their machismo to the world and how they deserve to be on top of the food chain…and then one sneeze happens and they revert back to behaving like womb-fruits.
      We should start a ‘just say no’ campaign. We need to stamp whine flu out, before it becomes a pandemic!

      Thank you and you have a great weekend.


  8. YUCK. I do hope you ALL feel better! I hear you on the man/boy-flu. I ALWAYS would rather I get sick than my son or husband, that’s just too much to bear! Women have some extra hormone that make us move on and do what we have to do, and men can lift heavy things and other impressive feats, but ohmygods THE MAN FLU is real, yo. And that remote thing might not just be when they’re sick! I remember my son sitting on my lazy butt complaining very LOUDLY how much he “HATES THIS SHOW” and why was he watching it? Couldn’t ‘find’ the remote after a quick glance in 2 directions!
    When I saw the title, I literally thought, “Did I read this one already?” so I’m glad you clarified for those of us that are not all there, even when we’re NOT on cold meds!


    • Joy, if I’m sick, Spawn will kindly ask if I would like a hot beverage, in which I will answer in the affirmative. Five bloody hours later…
      I daren’t ask for food because I could be waiting up to a year!

      Yeah, that whole remote control thing. I swear males are born with in built blinkers, or tunnel vision, whereby they can only see things that are directly in front of them. I think turning to the sides and properly looking, causes seizures or something.

      Thank you, and you’re welcome. 🙂


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