Tuesday 11 November 2014


The sheer joy of the first snotathon of the winter , wallowing in a sea of self pity while at my venomous best. This is not a good time to ask your mother where you're washing is, what's for your packup or if there's anything good for tea. The best I can offer is a fetching Kleenex casserole , so go and nuke some thing or head for the kebab shop or starve. I've gone deaf so it's safe to talk about me behind my back or even in front of me .  Normal service will be resumed once I re enter the realms of the living , I currently resemble an extra from the Walking Dead and if I go missing it's because the washing yurt has toppled on me.....Whisky and Lemsip donations gladly accepted

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