elysia

"That's my jacket. I looked for it for TWO WEEKS"

- Planet Terror


I randomly have this song stuck in my head. I haven't heard it in years yet it's just stuck in there on repeat.



The only version on iTunes is the live one for some idiotic reason. I have the original but it's on tape so is a little non-iPod compatible. Crapfest.



Three random points for discussion;

(1) Get down with the sickness
There is another one of those horrible sickness bugs going around, and both Mini E and myself have had it. Mini E was hospitalised twice, and after ten days of no sleep and a week without eating I hit a point where I was struggling to look after her. The Doctors were a bunch of needle wielding English as a poor second language glove toting unnecessary procedure suggesting sweaty handed inappropriate shit for brains can't add up in your own head would you like to borrow a few fingers shirt and non-matching tie combo wearing granny beating baby delivering wanktards who were also nice enough to diagnose Mini E with a heart murmur. Three Doctors later and I gleamed that it probably isn't serious. You have to admire the audacity to have such a lack of fucking conviction.


(2) So I felt like the biggest asshole
I am such a horrible person to be around at the moment. You could argue that I haven't had a proper sleep in the last month, that the constant stomach ache is beginning to get annoying and that all the other stupid little things that have been going wrong must be somewhat to blame. Of course they are, but it's really as simple as this - I'm super pissed off, and if you try to talk to me it will undoubtedly end up aimed at you for doing something TOTALLY FUCKING MORONIC BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAH See?
It's not a depression thing, it really is just the sort of mid-level anger that leads a person to create a second personality and take up soap making. Maybe finding a cancer support group and getting a bit of group hugging action will take the edge off?


(3) I can't be on the last train home
What is with public transport these days? Has it really always been so fucking tiny little dog that should be kept in a cage with a wheel instead of out on the street in a jumper with a fat fuck on the end of a lead useless or is this a recent thing? I just don't remember it being so geigh. I know that I've had some ticket related angst of late, but this really is the motherfucking worst. The utterly brilliant Serj Tankian is playing four dates in the UK in the next couple of weeks and I'm going to miss every single one as the train service is so fucking retarded. Why do all the services end at nine? Who the fuck is going home at nine o'clock other than the dickless rail employees? Just whyyyyyyyyy?

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Dear Mr Train Man that arranges the timetables,

You see that round thing on the wall? No, not your fat controller face reflected in the mirror, the thing with the squiggles on it. WELL. Those squiggly things on it are called numbers, and the pointy things are the hands. We use it to tell the time. You might like to try using it next time you create a timetable as planning the National Rail service on a sundial is fucking preposterous and yet is the only possible explanation that I can fathom for your ridiculous system. You are a twat, I hope your wife is a stinky whore with three eyes and a vagainus as wide as the opening for those stupid button operated toilets you insisted on installing on Midlands trains. Cunt.

Regards,

Elysia

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Right. Off to watch the second series of Heroes. Better mood next week?



"Don't shoot yourself. Don't shoot each other. And especially - don't shoot me"