Wednesday, 17 February 2010


I'm liking my drink too much. I guess the cheap price of booze, having a brilliant offie with a dangerous selection of smooth, deep New World reds 5 mins up the road away, being out of work and being depressed are a lethal combination. Not even feeling poorly stops me. No wonder my skin#s f***ed.

I been musing about going to see the doctors. I can hear the conversation now

Doc - So what seems to be the problem?
Me - My skin has been having a constant outbreak of spots for the last 3 months
Doc - Are you under any stress at all
Me - Well I just paid the Tax Man my life savings, I'm broke as f*ck and there's no sign of any meaningful, regular work on the horizon
Doc - Ahh, I see. Have you changed your diet or skin care regime lately?
Me - Well if you mean, have I been stuffing more satured fatty foods down my neck, not exercising and downing my weekly allowance of alcholic units every night solid for the last 3 months - then NO not really
Doc - Ok well here's a prescription for enough Tamezpan to fry your brains for 6 months - in the unlikely event you want to get a repeat prescription, speak to the General Medical Council. Goodbye.

You get the picture :-/
I'm talking to God much more now - I'm hoping he can help me out.

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