AAAAAAARRRRRGGGGGGHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

Here ya go, Finni.

Now it's that kinda blog!

Both exhausts are pretty sweet, no?

*Bwah Ha Ha*

Actually, today I've felt kinda like Jamal all day. (Singing)Bring me my AK 47 - 'cos I never can bladdy remember to bring it along...

No, seriously, folks.

It's been rough. My head's tingling from the wounds I inflicted yesterday, shaving all hung over and stuff. In fact, you can actually still see the patch where I almost removed my ear from the side of my head with one deft sweep of one of those five-bladed razor things. It's a pity I didn't get it right too, 'coz the other day, the one earpiece (I don't know what it's actually called) fell off my Oakleys. Maybe if I'd succeeded, I'd be able to wear my sunglasses again.

Starting a new position in an old company... It's kind of like a sympathy lay, isn't it? Feels good for a short, intense while. But once the euphoria's washed away - no matter how brief or intense said euphoria may have been - it starts to dawn. The only thing that's really happened is you've just got fucked, is all. If you're lucky, you might see her again if she forgot her toothbrush when she pissed off over the rear wall.

I'm sure you can see where this is leading. Or coming from.

My day. A real, real doozy.

Anyone out there - anyone at all - who could use my services? Let me know. Even if I have to find out where ol' Moldova is. Buddy - let me know, man!!!

I'm sure, once I've pulled myself towards myself, I'll get over all this hypertension and stress. And the fact I've run out of my fucking happy pills again and I can actually feel the chemicals changing inside my skull (it's a type of sleepy feeling that just seems to take over everything for a while).

But I'll get over it.

'Coz I'm a suh-VIE-VORRR.

ES and I left our maid (again, I repeat: That IS the WORD FOR a LADY WHO CLEANS professionally. DOMESTICS, I repeat, are what happen in Kempton Park between a man, sy vrou and a couple of bottles o' brandy) at home to do the ironing. All day. After all, we didn't rent the Hazmat suits for nothing.

Needless to say, it was reported broken. Time of Death: 12:00.

Is this some sort of conspiracy? Break everything around you so you don't have to work. Don't have to pull your weight?

That fucking thing's been working perfectly. It's not even five years old. And now everyone's going: c'mon! It's 5 years old!

Fuck off, it was working perfectly. I'm 29 and still going!

And on the note of going, I actually logged on to say there's still no word from Scotland and I'm going home.

Love you all for reading my rants. I'll see you tomorrow.

Yes, even you, my friend from Maldavia...

Whatever...