One side-effect of my mum's illness is that she has amassed a gigantic hoard of exotic medicaments, with names that sound like Doctor Who villains. The other morning I'm sure I caught ZOPHREN planning an intergalactic electromagnetic assault on SPASFON.
Needless to say, mum and I are both quite confused about what she's supposed to be taking and what she isn't. Which is how this conversation ensued yesterday with the doctor (not *that* doctor):
Mum: I'm worried about all these medicines, I don't know what I'm supposed to be taking.
Doctor: Well, now, ah, you see, I'm a Cartesian.
Me: Ah yes, Cartesian dualism.
Doctor: Oh, you studied philosophy?
Me: A bit.
Doctor: All French people are Cartesians; it's in our nature.
Me: He believes in the separateness of the mind and the body.
Mum: Right, well, what does that have to do with anything?
Doctor: I don't make a note of anything, you see.
Me: It seems to mean he doesn't believe in keeping medical records.
Mum: Right. So which of these medicines am I supposed to be taking?
Doctor: Buggered if I know.
In other news, no lesbians with interstellar arrays have turned up yet, but I did see a dead snake.