Technicolor Yawn

Peter jumps out of bed and races to the john, clutching his mouth with his left hand.

Returns looking sheepish and avoids the stares of the other, much more high-profile, bloggers.

"OK - it was a tortilla wrap I ate on Wednesday. Michael I called it - with roast breast of duck and warm potato salad. And now I can't keep a thing down."

Burp.

"Talk to you tomorrow. Maybe. If I wasn't so feverish I'd swear that was Alan Sharp over there."