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Someone was missing out. Or something. There was so much liquor I can’t even think straight. Thankfully the world isn’t spinning but I’m fairly sure for Aaron the world is spinning the hell out. Hoping to hell that tomorrow won’t be so bad. Like, get a hold of ourselves and not drink ourselves to silliness. Or something. Always fun to watch Aaron get fucked up. Amusing stuff. I know it sounded amusing over the phone. I think. Here’s to tomorrow in an attempt to fuck him over while I stay sober.

Monkey Island is back. In two forms. One remake, one episodic. Shit just went mad. (via and)

Two weeks to the day they said they posted that shit. Going by that, I gotta wait another… 2 weeks for the other shirt to arrive. Fuck.

I ordered some tee shirts wheres my fucking tee shirts?

Because I ordered them not too long ago (well, one of them not too long ago. It’s been around 2 weeks since the first one) and they’re cheap and I like them a lot.

La Vita e Bella

The Quick Brown Fox

They have nice little blurbs about the shirts.

Despite all the intoxication, I knew what they wanted. I knew no matter how many jugs of beer I get, they won’t wipe away what sits clearly in their minds. If anything it only exacerbates, letting them whisper to each other little truths that they do not dwell on most of the time. Or so I hope.

In a way it just pains me to know it all, but choose not to do anything about it. Like denying them of something that is not available every so often, if ever. I do not actually enjoy denying people of things they want. Yet it is something I have to do, for their sake, and my own.

What they want, and what I want, may well be intertwined, alike. But I can’t. I don’t need to complicate things further than it already is, or can be. Or maybe I can. Just to keep a running tally of all the little things I do in life, that keep it routine, and see how many I break. How many I push away to find new ways of living.

Much as jumping headfirst into something new can be invigorating and painful, the more thought I put into it the more I back away. I need to stop thinking. What good is attempting to live a new life if all I ever do is crawl back to the safety of routine?

I want to see the world differently. I want to see the world without a safety net.

Managed to perforate my ear drum. Am I fine? I guess I will be. As long as I don’t wet my ear, vibrate, or fly.

That means I can’t swim, can’t stick a vibrator in my ear or climb mountains.

But yeah, popped into the hospital to get my ear looked into by a doctor who looked displeased with me just being around him. Must have something to do with my being in the emergency ward for what he might consider a non emergency, but to me anything to do with me and my health I consider an emergency. Doesn’t make me a hypochondriac, but yeah, MOVE ASIDE KID WITH AIDS, MY PROBLEM IS BIGGER THAN YOURS.

It’s funny how the hospital took my details, because I was asked the same questions three times. This redundancy might be in effect for several reasons. Perhaps they wanted to make sure they had the right person. Double check the factsheet and all that. Perhaps they wanted to be a little more thorough in their questions, and hoping my story stays consistent. Or perhaps they don’t read each others notes and have to ask the same patient the same set of questions. Every. Damn. Time.

Whatever the case, I told what my problem is to two different nurses, the first one let me into the ward. The second one told me a doctor will come in. The third time I was asked what my problem was by the doctor himself.

Except I didn’t know he was my doctor because I was looking out the room I was in and he saw me and walked over without introducing himself and just asked what am I in here for.

So there he is asking me what am I in here for and here I am thinking this fellow is some busybody doctor that saw me being unattended and was curious what I’m in for. So I told him I’m waiting for a doctor. Then he says he’s a doctor. To which I said, well, I’m waiting for the doctor who should’ve already READ MY FILE. Then this wiseguy had to say he’s the doctor who’s seeing me now what is my problem.

So fair enough, I tell him what I’m in for (only the 3rd time I gotta repeat the story anyway) and then he looks in my ear. FINALLY SOME FUCKING PROGRESS. Like all sensible people, he looks in my good ear first, then my bad one. I’d cry myself to sleep if this fellow went straight to my bad ear.

End result was I got my antibiotics, my advise, and a general idea of where the perforation is (thankfully nowhere that could lead to permanent hearing loss).

How, did I get it in the first place? You ever hear people telling you NOT to stick things in your ear and tell yourself “naaah I wouldn’t be that dumb to do that”?

Thats what I told myself but did anyway when I had this peculiar feeling in my ear after applying some ear cleaner. Long story short, I fucked myself in the ear when I could’ve totally avoided this by NOT messing with it. The lesson here is really what everyone’s been telling you from the start.

Do NOT stick things in your ear.

I’d like to start over. Everything.

But at the same time, I’ve already fallen down this rabbit hole, why not see just how deep it goes.

I cooked dinner. It’s a little special this time, and I have absolutely NO intention of repeating this feat of excess ANYTIME SOON.

Chicken Cordon Bleu, Inside out Chicken Cordon Bleu, leftover bacon, and an omelette

Chicken Cordon Bleu, Inside out Chicken Cordon Bleu, leftover bacon, and an omelette

I present to you, my dinner plate. Just chockful of shit, more notably, one Chicken Cordon Bleu which turned out fairly nicely despite it’s untoward appearance since I was poking and prodding the thing to make sure it was cooked; two inside out Chicken Cordon Bleus, because I actually ran out of chicken breasts big enough to contain the ham bacon and cheese on the inside, I thought why not put them on the outside. I also had some leftover bacon but I had no bright ideas on that and just fried them as is. Always a good plan. Finally, theres the omelette of veg and cheese. Originally I planned on doing just the veg all boiled, but in a last minute dash of not having anything better to do, I decided why not make an omelette out of it. Why the fuck not indeed ay?

So there it is. Two hours of my life, spent cooking for myself. I can assure you, while the food looks like shit, it tastes great, and it’s totally not worth the fucking time if you’re cooking for yourself. Cooking for other people though, it becomes something other people appreciate and thus, worth the fucking time. As it is, I’m not gonna repeat this shit for myself. I’d rather just cook something in 5 minutes than 2 fucking hours.

Cooked some stuff in the two weeks before Beckie came back. What does it look like? Why not take a look yourselves over here. Was gonna write it up myself, but since it’s been done for me, just point your asses that way and have a gander. Here are some clues as to what they are.

In the end we did the TAR Park for two dives. Quite really when diving in the park I don’t expect much. Nonetheless I put down some 80 quid for a cheap underwater camera (really just a cheap camera with a case). It was so cheap it still uses negatives. I’ve yet to process the negatives, and in many ways afraid of processing them because they’ll show how I forgot how to use a manual film camera that requires winding after each shot. Read More »