The drugs don't work

So I went to Sheffield for my MRI scan.

It didn't start well. Car park this way says the sign. This way I went. Car park is a multi storey. Max height 1.83m. My car is 1.9m. That's a no then. Fortunately found a surface space.

Went in the hospital, and a feeling of "this place is knackered" was evident. Dirty, peeling paint, worn out. Went to the reception, and she tells me here is your form, you have to follow the blue line on the floor, but it's a bit worn out. More like there are random spots of blue left here and there. But never mind.

By now I'm expecting the MRI machine to be steam powered, and for them to ask if I've brought any coal for it. But no! There is the usual plaque on the wall. MRI department opened by... and the date is April 2011. So the machinery is new and shiny.

I get jammed in a plastic tube for 15 mins. Fortunately the small space, and noise doesn't bother me. By the end I'm losing time perception, and almost drift off somewhere else. Methinks I would quite like to try one of those flotation tank things..

So I escape, and am told that I will get an appointment for the results at some point. We drive off, and my radio comes back to life as I get closer to home. It's playing the verve - the drugs don't work. Ohhhh spooky!

Success! Fail! Fear!

We've got it all at C'riz towers.

Success was I phoned the post office people. Using a real phone. And talked to two different humans. And convinced them to do my bidding.

The result of this is I'm now officially applied to have a PPI account. The nice lady says I qualify, and will get it finalised in a couple of weeks. The exciting upshot being I will get post at "business" rate, not man in the street rate. With my own license number.

More exciting, at a quick calculate it will save me £1000 per year. What do I spend my riches on?

Fail was I misplaced the email she sent me. No problem, i'll login to the webmail system that keeps everything. And there it is. I also checked the settings to see why it was missing, to find something odd.

Apparently I'm called "Dave Gulzar" and not C'riz at all. And I've setup to forwards everything to a gmail account... And sent mail show I sent a few thousand people a message inviting them to claim a share of $20 bajillion dollars once they help me, er, Dave, get it out of Nigeria.

I think that counts as my account has been hacked. Sad face = on. Angry face is then on as I try to fight virgin's crap system to change the bloody password and delete 'Dave'. Tis done now, and settings changed that logining in for the first time on any pooter needs a code SMSing to my phone. That should fix it!

Fear is in exactly 13 hours I get jammed into a plastic tube for an MRI scan. Results of which will be notified at some later date says the letter.
Translation: Somebody else can tell you you're going to die, not us.

All I want for Christmas

is glue..... I think that's how the song goes.

Idiot Girl has announced what she desires. Prepare yourself to be shocked. A KINDLE.

I gave you ample bracing time!

Yes, Idiot Girl wants one of Amazon's electronic book thingies. I think this is rather a stupid idea. Idiot Girl's idea of a 'dead good' book is either a) Latest crap twilight vampire nonsense or more commonly b) misery porn. "The really awful story of a poor child, and the wonderful social worker who saved him/her/it" would be her dream title.

Besides the kindle obvious problems of IG will break it / forget to charge it / be too thick to use it, there's the snag that the books are really expensive. Deffo not sold below cost like the paper versions are at the supermarket......

Moi? Well as usual I want leaving the hell alone. You don't need expensive gifts to 'prove' you care.

Crime and punishment

Tomorrow is Friday. Which means it's stained glass class day!

Or 'Paedophile lock down simulator'...

It's now been moved to a skool. Where there are ankle biters at the same time. So you go to reception, sign in and are given your identity badge. You must wear it at all times. You must wait by reception, and not interact with others until the tutor comes to collect you. At this point everyone can be moved to E wing, er the classroom.

Once in class, should you require anything, eg visit to the little boys room you must call reception, await the warder, who will then take you to the toilet.

We went for coffee. As a group, for of course the rules say no one can be left behind. Most of us went down the stairs, the ones less able to walk took the lift. To find the unsmiling droids, blasters aimed. 'You are new here, so we will overlook this mistake once. Do not separate the group again'.

One fool asked about going for a smoke. To be told he must sign out of the building, walk off the premises to the roundabout. (1 mile away). He decided to quit for the day.

What makes it so extra stupid is several times ankle biters randomly wondered into our area. If we're so dangerous, why don't they keep the civilians away from us?

It's rather lacking in fun......

Words with fiends

So I've played a bit of the scrabble like game thing on the book of face. And learned a few things.

1) I'm crap at the knowing of words.

2) Other people know words I have to look up in the dictionary. (I'm looking at you Crawford).

3) It contains words that are made up. Having been bomped several times by people playing 'qis' I looked it up. It's the plural of 'qi'. : see ch'i.
This makes my head hurt. There should be a mode where you have to use the word you're playing in a sentence to prove you've not made it up. But no doubt this would happen.

4) I'm now taking the strategy of play my crap words on the triple point square things. And think about it hard while people on the other side of the planet are sleeping.

*************

In other news, the stained glass class starts today. But in a new location. A school. In school hours. One suspects there will be school pupils there. This cannot end well, and I'm rather unhappy about the prospect.

I had a dream last night

I'd somehow managed to piss off Barack Obama and Arthur Scargill. Worse, they both turned up at my house at the same time to tell me how angry they where.

Mr Obama arrived in that big car of his with lots of agent Smith look a likes. Mr Scargill turned up in a 2.8 granada, with two blokes with NUM donkey jackets, and a whippet. I was most scared of the whippet.

Tell me of your dreams?

Lazy blog:

Things to come

I was sent this photo:



Just in case you're doing the Rolf Harris 'can you tell what it is kids?" thing, I'll tell you. It's potentially my new toy, and route to world domination.

It's a CNC milling machine. Which I asked the vendor thereof to demonstrate that it can drill lots of dice. This is his solution. With a bit of up-scaling I think it could be a winner.

In related news, I am having a nice man visit tomorrow @ 8am. Who will attempt to show me how to build a wall in the rain, cold and wind. Yes, it's going to be awful.

Waiting for the end of time

Had this stuck in my head all day, so I'll share and maybe it will escape...



I think the car was prolly a yugo...

Flid

or Ma Ma makes a crap day worse.

Been feeling rather depressed, everything going wrong, alone in a godless universe, out of shake n vac etc.

I'm in the garage doing the work thing badly. She comes in and says 'Lynn' from the doctors phoned, I said you'd ring them back. Er, what did she want? Oh, you didn't bother asking... thanks a buncheroonie.

For new readers, I hate using phones with a fiery vengeance. Especially having to cold call someone who I don't know when I don't have a clue what it's about. Add in the background radiation misery and I'm seriously not happy. Ma Ma is oblivious, as it's all so easy for her.

So I did it. Turns out they want me to have a flu jab. Er, no. I should be feeling woo! for managing to do it, but instead I replay everything I said and criticize it in my head. I know it's wrong, but it's so easy to fall back into old patterns of thinking, and in a way comforting too if that makes any sense.

Ahead, flid factor 9 mr Sulu.

After the sun the rain

as teh hymn thing goes...

Sunny bit:


We be currently in a heatwave. Hottest day in October ever sort of thing. So I stopped doing the work thing and took Ma Ma to Haworth. The above be her attempt to take on a medium cone.

Happy was had by one and all. There was ice cream. Insanely steep hills to walk and drive up and down. Trains. Sunshine. Book shops. Park. Tea. Woo and indeed yay!

Here comes the rain again:
Of course I've been paying for it ever since. Mega tonnage of work to do for having a day off. Which I've been doing and almost caught up with now. Except my cnc lathe has now decided to throw a wobbler. Just when I need it. The z axis stepper motor has started stalling on fast moves, so getting the position wrong and ruining the work. I'm at a loss why, for nothing has changed. Tis scaring me silly, as usual when anything goes wrong with said machine.

Idiot Girl is back from her weekend keg, and has turned the stupidity up a notch or five. She's supposed to be ill, and has a signed sick note. Only snag is she's going to the donkey show this week for 2 days, then she's off drinking herself stupid(er) at chavvy shitehole butlins all weekend. This doesn't sound like being ill at all to me.

Then next week she's going to start driving again, but if anyone from work sees her, she was just practising, and she can't really drive yet and so can't possibly go back to work. The usual Idiot Girl urine extraction grade plans. ~sigh~.

In other news I've been CC'd in the the letter from the brain people at the hospital to my vets. It's all quite long words, but from googling it, there's something wrong and time for an MRI to see if that gives them any clues what.
Engage the return of my olde friend the cold ball of ice in the stomach area of doom. It wouldn't be that important if I go wonky in itself, but who will look after Ma Ma if I do? Still, there's always the hope they'll give me the Gallic shrug, 'dunno kid' and the advise to come back if I die unexpectedly.

APILB

Angry person in local blog.... that's me that is.

A lot of said anger is of course caused by Idiot Girl.

She had the plates removed from her foot, and contrary to what she thought is not taking a staring role opposite Michael Flatley in lard of the dance.
I'd be inhuman if I didn't feel a soupcon sorry for the idiot, except she's extracting the urine.

OMG! I'm in so much pain I can't do anything! I need someone to come and change channels on TV for the pain is so unbearable that I cannot use the remote control...

This may be true... Except every weekend when twonko #2 arrives said pain suddenly gets better, and it's rite keg to the max. Strangely there's a remission as soon as the lardy lump sods off home.

Ma Ma is also winding me up with the ebay gig. I sell dice. 20 of them says the advert... But I send the lucky buyer 21, on the baker's dozen system of doing things. I can't be bothered to check every single die for problems, so 1 more = 5%, and it's unlikely they're made >5% defective.

The wind up is every freeking time I sell 40 she asks do they get 2 extra then? Yes, yes they do. She then proceeds to weigh them to 'be sure'. Ma, one extra die isn't going to weigh 100 grams more. It will weigh exactly the same as the last lot. stop it plz!!!

Friends are also annoying.

Eddie Shovelhands for reasons unknown wants to purchase a laptop for his 8 year old child. Which should he buy? Er, any of them... they're all the same these days... just don't buy the cheapest. Simples! Er, no.
I've had about 4.9 billion phone calls that go "Are X any good?". Repeat until you can't take it any more. Methinks he should be more worried about small child breaking it than the maker.

I've also been promised by a bloke who can that he will come and build me a wall. No problem mate, only take an hour. Cancelled on me 3 times so far. I need the wall as the next step in world domination, so looks like the world will be safe for some time yet.

Someone else who is angry: Mr Anderson


Methinks he's angry 'cos Shazza's had all the snags off the barbie and there's only XXXX left to drink.

Everybody hurts

So REM finally gives up.

I remember once waking up in front of the tv at 3am with one of those late night phone in shows on. The topic was 'songs for funerals'. Someone suggested 'everybody hurts'...

'Not as much as the guy in the faaackin box!' said an anonymous caller.
Don't know why, but that's always stayed in the back of my mind as true wisdom.

Lazy blog:

Testing times

So I went to the hospital today to see the neurology people.

Hello, I'm Dr. Khan. This here is a student.... he's going to pretend he knows what he's doing, then I'll come in and sort the mess out in a bit.

~Dr. Khan exits~

So..... why are you here today?

Well Mummy and Daddy said they loved each other very much.... Oh, you mean 'plz describe what's wrong with you'?

Well, nothing.... this may have something to do with it being 4 months since I was urgently referred to this department..... Sorry, I got better (I think) .... but feel free to have a guess what was wrong in the first place.

Man then runs me thru lots of silly tests... including does it hurt when I stab you with this lancet? How about here? OW. stop it plz!

~Student exits, Dr. Khan returns~
I'll just do a few tests...... ~stabby etc~

OW! Plz to stop testing, my response to sharp objects has not changed in the last 90 seconds.

Dr. Khan's conclusion is:
a) I don't like sharp objects.
b) I appear mostly better with only a few symptoms vaguely detectable.
c) Will send me for an MRI scan as it's possible there will be some evidence of damage which would give him more of a clue what had gone wrong than sticking me with lancets does.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's idiot girl's turn tomorrow when she goes for her stitches removing. I think she's being rather optimistic.... She can't walk very far now, but plans to walk 2 miles back from the hospital once the stitches are removed.

Methinks I will get a phone call to collect her, location 25 yards from the hospital.

Stay

Lazy blog time:



I've wondered what the gaff is with this song for a while. Like it starts out all slow, and then someone puts 50p in the meter, and it suddenly rocks out...

Slight snag being the video makes bugger all sense either. Would anyone care to interpret what's going on?

Tell me why?

Monday, 9pm. A message: ask seller a question.

The woman wants 20 dice (the plastic cubes with numbers that I've recently started selling), but must have them by Thursday and is willing to pay for special delivery.

Why can't people plan ahead? Shirley you don't start looking so late in the game.

More importantly, why do I feel bad that it's costing twice the dice value to send them? It's not like I'm getting the 'special' money.

Lazy blog... I find this quite brilliant...

Multiple fail

There are several types of fail. Most where observed this weekend.

Idiot girl demonstrated "I told you so I told you, but you would pay no heed", by going to her 'rite keg' and having a truly awful time. She was in agony after standing for more than 30 seconds. Will she do it differently next time? Somehow I doubt it.

As I was on the 'no keg' list 'cos we are IG's designated dog dumping zone, I decided to make use of the time by calling in some favours and getting my new concrete floor made. So I phoned Eddie Shovelhands (who's actually called Rick, but does have large hands).

Eddie assures me he knows how to use a cement mixer. Eddie is lying! Fail #2, believing people when you can see it's wrong.....
He says of course you can get 3 bags of ballast & 1 bag of cement in the cement mixer... and you could.... until you add the water and turn it on. At this point it proceeds to throw cement violently everywhere. We are both covered in cement, as is my car and garage. He then concedes I may have been right and we should have used the buckets to measure a smaller amount.

Eventually the floor is laid, and concrete removed from most surfaces where it's not supposed to be.

I watch doctor who on tv, which is not exactly sparkling. I then watch last night of the proms, which is also moderately poor until the last bit with the standard British conquer the planet stuff..

Sunday rolls round, and Idiot girl announces she's cutting the keg short due to having a shite time. Marvellous.... So I can have keg now, as long as I make it quick. So we go to Bolton. For the mill engine museum.

Except when we get there Idiot girl phones to say she's put the foot in the shower, despite instructions of don't get the dressing wet, and now oddly it's wet. Shower, water, wet, who would have thought it?
So we spend an hour driving around attempting to find a chemist. We find several closed ones and no open ones. We then realise the answer is tell Idiot Girl to tell twonko #2 to get off his big fat arse, go to the chemist in our town that is open and buy appropriate supplies. Why we didn't think of this an hour earlier I don't know.

We go back to the museum. Lots of steam and a few hundred tonnes of machinery moving slowly. Heaven!

Ma Ma, would you like some coffee? Yes. She then DOES IT AGAIN! Asks the person for a "weak coffee". followed 5 minutes later by declaring this coffee tastes horrible!
That would be because you have coloured water, and not coffee. She then pours hers into my cup, so I now have ruined coffee also. Why she keeps doing this I have no idea... but I'm going to drink only tea from this point on.

Of course Ma Ma is only concerned about little miss stupid, so shortly afterwards my day out is cut very short and it's back home again.

*******************

It has come to my attention that this Friday, Wheatus, of 'teenage dirtbag' (baby) fame are playing my one horse town. Should I go? It could be fun? Only slight snag I can see is that's their only song that I'm familiar with.... did they do anything else? Does it matter?

Prolly won't go I suspect.... (fear fail!)

There can be only one!

No, not highlander. There can be only one person allowed to have fun, and to cut a long story short it's idiot girl.

She came out of hospital on Wednesday. Twonko #2 appears for his "riding lesson". Instead of telling him to fuc... er, go away, Idiot Girl and her newly operated on foot go to a damp field and dick around with horse.

So not much of a shock that today she feels awful, and is rather ill. Free clue Idiot Girl, most sensible people come out of hospital and take it easy...

She has also got the weekend kegged up to the max, which makes me rather annoyed. There is something I want to do, that I can only do on 3 days per year. But hey, I can stay home and look after the dog while she attempts to keg despite not being able to stand for more than 30 seconds.

Methinks I'd even go as far as saying she's a mega selfish stupid bint. I can't do my thing, just so she can go and fail at doing her thing, and then afterwards I'm supposed to feel sorry for poor little miss kegged too much and is now suffering.

Yes, I could leave the dog as Ma Ma's problem and go on my own, but that doesn't show much in the way of solidarity amongst the dumped on does it?

Plz to tell me your bestest joke to cheer me up?

True faith

Lazy blog Engage! Make it so number one!



I'm not sure if this is my favourite new order track. Obviously it's this or blue monday, but if blue monday which version? 88 prolly.

What doth you think?

She stood on the bridge at midnight

Her lips where all a quiver
She gave a cough
Her leg fell off
And floated down the river.

Ok, so that was my fantasy of what would happen. What really happened is Idiot Girl survived surgery, and continued to be Idiot Girl.

As expected we are kept totally in the dark. We don't know where in the hospital she is. She hasn't told us anything at all. There is no communication to say she back in the land of living. So we do detective work, and find she's on ward 28. To the batmobile!

Oh look it's idiot Girl:



This is 15 minutes into her ranting with every second word being the F bomb.

She's unhappy 'cos they're keeping her ass in overnight. They're unhappy 'cos they thought they where getting rid of her... until they found out she lives alone, and teh rules say no escape for you. Thus they have no bed planned for her. It's all their F'n fault says the charming Idiot Girl. They counter this by her records saying she's married to Twonko and lives with him.

I don't care who's fault it is. I just stare out the window while she continues to swear about the staff, her treatment, the colour of the walls, the theatre staff's command of English, the machine that goes bleep and everything else she can think of.
40 minutes later we leave. I can hear her swearing all the way to the lift as she phones Twonko #2.

On death

Not taxes.

By now most of the interweb connected world will have seen the google Freddie Mercury thing.

Maybe it's Elvis for my generation, I can remember where I was when I heard he'd died. (On a bus going to Salford, for a 'how to do really well in maths a level' conference type thing). I can't picture what he would have been like at 65.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

More death!

Idiot Girl goes for surgery tomorrow. Before leaving her new beau (Must think of a name for him, twonko #2 doesn't really work) said that if she dies, can he have her dog?

I doubt she will.... Remember how she tried to remove her foot by the medium of horse? And how said foot is held together with lots of metal plates... well she gets pain in said foot, and so has convinced some idiot to remove said plates, and she won't have pain ever again....

Well that's what she thinks. I'm more of the opinion that chronic pain is a likely outcome of trying to remove your foot, and without the supporting metal work it's quite likely she'll go out on a keg, get drunk, fall over and smash said foot into a bajillion pieces. But I could be wrong. I'm not a doctor and haven't played one on tv.