I am in love with Strepcil lozenges, which kept my cold at bay for two days. But now I'm down for the count.
Meanwhile, the write-five-things-starting-with-this-let
Peanut butter, the staple of the American childhood. Or mine, anyway. I lived on plain peanut butter sandwiches. Or PB + bacon sandwiches. No, really, they're great. Also, PB + chocolate.
Pillows, preferably lots of them. I sleep with about five normally, and if I had more I could work with that. I mound them all around me, and generally sleep face-down half on top of one.
Portobello Road in London, where I just stayed for a week. Overcrowded with tourists buying dubious antiques on Saturday, but otherwise a neighborhood that reminds me of Noe Valley in SF. There's a Lush store on it where a heavily tattooed and pierced young man showed me how to use their goopy body butter stuff.
Plastic, a material that takes a lot of abuse but is the workhorse of our society. I'm typing on plastic keys, sitting in an airplane seat that's mostly plastic, and wearing a warm vest made from recycled plastic bottles. Handy stuff, and it doesn't have to be cheesy.
The printing press, duplicator of newspapers, political tracts, novels, self-help books, art books, maps, all the information that civilization has shared with itself over the last 400+ years. I'm a fan.
PS: What's this I hear about a Who fandom apocalypse? Surely one is impending after today's news.