01:40hrs. I woke up with a deep-nagging feeling, that I had forgotten something that needed doing, or remembering this morning! A few moments were spent, as I applied the Propain Gel on the Arthur Itis ridden legs, doing my best to recall what the piquing and vexing in the brain could have meant, but I had no success. (No success, there’s something which, I am familiar with nowadays,Huh!) I languorously laboured to extract my fat, wobbly, blobby, blood-papsule and scar-ridden body from the rickety, not-working again recliner, and off the few paces from the chair, and to the GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket). It was not very full this morning, hardly owt in it, but the ELPSOA (Extra-Long-Powerful-Spraying-Out-Allover) wee-wee, put that right. Haha!
I made my way to the kitchen, and took the morning medications, then made a brew of Yorkshire tea.
As I was refilling the kettle, a truly agonising pain shot from the back of my left thigh, bum, down to knee-cap. I was stood still at the time and had not the foggiest idea of what had caused it to hurt so in the first place. I was genuinely worried, as it kept coming. I was considering pressing the ‘Wrist-Alarm’, such a sharp pain. But, after a couple of minutes or so, it died down altogether? A puzzling and most Delphian like experience! Then Arthur Itis returned in both knees. The thigh bother hasn’t returned again up to now anyway, I say (07:45hrs), obligatedly! ‘Bonkersness – an everyday pleasure for old folk!’ There’s a poem in there somewhere? I can feel it formulating now! Hehehe!
Another wee-wee of the RWPS (Reluctant-Weak-Painful-Spraying) mode, and onto the computer. But… yet again!
Thank you, Mr Fries. May your testicles wither, and guilt attack and punish you. Git!
I tried the reset button to no avail. Rebooted the computer, nut no luck. So, I turned everything off for ten minutes and started afresh. Nope! I decided to take it all down again and leave it longer this time before I try to reload the pathetic, crap, useless, unreliable Liberty-Global (so he can muck up millions of customers then?) Virgin Media.
I went for a refresher wash in the wet room. Had a wee-wee, of the RWPS (Reluctant-Weak-Painful-Spraying) variety.
I have to say, I was somewhat taken aback by the colouration, or rather, lack of colouration in the feet and legs this morning.
Meantime I composed an ode. Calling it “‘Bonkersness’ An everyday pleasure for old folk!” as planned earlier. I got carried away with it, so it took a while to get finished.
Then I tried the internet again, and things came back to normal. Still slow, but that as I say, is typical for Mr Fries, pitiful, feeble, despicable, saddening and anger-making, wretched, Godforsaken, contemptible, cockamamie, shameful, inadequate, cruelly-inapt and inept, abominable, damnable, fiendish, and embarrassing, outrageous, waste of time, cruel, and laughingly inferior, unfit-for-the-job, sub-standard service! There, I feel a bit better now!
I went to have yet another wee-wee, this time an LWDS (Long-Weak-Dribbling-Sprinkling) wee-wee. Then into the kitchen to make a brew, and took some photos through the thick-framed, light & view-blocking, with glass that cannot be reached for cleaning, new windows.
I made the cuppa, and got on with updating the Sunday post at last! (Thank you, Mr ‘Con-man’ Fries!)
I had to stop and go to the wet room, to utilise the Porcelain Throne. Recent evacuations seem to be settling into a familiar routine lately; ‘Sit, splash-splush, all over!’ To be followed by a lengthy cleaning up of the room and me!
I got the blog finished after much Mr Fries, Global Virgin Internet and finger-jumping affected delays.
Then got on the WordPress Reader page.
I made a start on this blog. (Three hours) Went onto TFZer Facebooking.
Fodder prepared, a chilli-con-carne, with mushrooms, garden peas, onions, tomatoes and chips added. Popping crisps as a side nibble. Milk Roll bread to soak up the gravy with its added BBQ sauce.
A good one, 9.25/10 flavour rating.
I tried again to get some cleaning done. Not that Sister Jane scares me, with her one-look and one-word disheartening, rebarbative, mind-shattering, confidence-destroying, stares; as she runs her fingers along some dust, she had found. Or makes me feel as big as a microbe! Hehehe!
Got the pots washed and tried to clean between the cooker and cupboard.
I got the dizzies while working in the kitchen, and the damned leg went off uncontrollably on one its, thankfully infrequent, Neuropathic Schuhplattler stomps. And over I went, to greet the hard floor, denting one of the tiles as I did so with my knee!
That was it! I stopped everything. Left stuff half-sorted, rubbed pain-gel on the knee, felt somewhat sorry for myself, and got down in the £300 second-hand, recliner in search easing the Dizzy Dennis bout, searching and hoping for some sort of peace of mind and sleep! And felt a little ‘I can’t win, I’ve had enough-like’.
I kept nodding and waking, a few wee-wees, and got myself feeling low again. Especially when proper sleep was denied me!
Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit! Particularly this bloke! Tsk!
