Ouch!

The doctor said, 'Harry, the good news is I can cure your headaches.

The bad news is that it will require castration.
You have a very rare condition, which causes your testicles to press on your spine and the pressure creates one hell of a headache. The only way to relieve the pressure is to remove the testicles.'
I was shocked and depressed. I wondered if I had anything to live for.

I had no choice but to go under the knife.

When I left the hospital, I was without a headache for the first time in 20 years, but I felt like I was missing an important part of Myself.

As I walked down the street, I realized that I felt like a different person. I could make a new beginning and live a new life.
I saw a men's clothing store and thought, 'That's what I need... A new suit...'
I entered the shop and told the salesman, 'I'd like a new suit..'
The elderly tailor eyed me briefly and said, 'Let's see... Size 44 long.'
I laughed, 'That's right, how did you know?'
'Been in the business 60 years!' the tailor said..
I tried on the suit it fitted perfectly.
As I, admired myself in the mirror, the salesman asked, 'How about a new shirt?'
I thought for a moment and then said, 'Sure.'
The salesman eyed me and said, 'Let's see, 34 sleeves and 16-1/2 neck.'
I was surprised, 'That's right, how did you know?'
'Been in the business 60 years.'
I tried on the shirt and it fitted perfectly.
I walked comfortably around the shop and the salesman asked, 'How about some new underwear?'
I thought for a moment and said, 'Sure.'
The salesman said, 'Let's see... Size 36.
I laughed, 'Ah ha! I got you! I've worn a size 34 since I was 18 years old.'
The salesman shook his head, 'You can't wear a size 34.

A size 34 would press your testicles up against the base of your spine and give you one hell of a headache.'

* I’ve been feeling like shit, Decent posts will resume in the near future*

Going

I received a message from Google this morning telling me that they are going to shut down their “Reader” application. Bloody annoying if you ask me, as I use it follow blogs and the news.

Anyone know of another programme that I can import my RSS feeds into?

Stop It I tell you!

Apparently it’s “National No Smoking day”.

Wednesday 13 March is National No Smoking Day, which aims to help and support people who want to quit smoking.

And of course the nannying fussbuckets have dreamed up a new slogan for this year.

'Swap Fags for Swag'

I must admit the MSM have gone cold on this. I expected huge articles in support, but it seems the MSM aren’t interested this year

There’s only one thing that I can truly say about this.

FUCK OFF, YOU NANNYING WANKERS.

*Not too strong I hope?*

Am I watching you?

 

Cue maniacal laughter.

Drinkaware

 

Holes

Since the summer (Don’t laugh), the roads in Kent have deteriorated to almost third world status. Everywhere you go there are whole (snigger) sections of road that have been shorn of the top surface. But that’s not the worst of it.

Potholes are becoming a dangerous menace. I think they’re actually breeding. Some are several centimetres deep. I certainly wouldn’t like to be a cyclist. The council say they are working on the problem but obviously not in my area.

Now that we have had a flurry of global warming, ie snow, the roads are even worse to drive on. The problem is that  snow filled potholes are like traversing a minefield without a mine detector.

I wonder how much Kent has spent of it’s road budget? I must ask.

Mown down.

Or rather worn down.

As the spring is nearly here I debated with myself whether to have the garden mower serviced and various faults fixed. (Engine that has a mind of it’s own, failing clutch, blade that is seriously knackered, fuel leak, and grass box that has seen better days).

Having rung around a received a couple of quotes I decided that the old girl had had it’s day and it was time to obtain a new one.

The new mower was delivered at O’crack sparrowfart (Nautical term) in a large cardboard box on Thursday morning and placed temporarily beside the house. Of course I couldn’t leave it there in the rain so I dragged, and I dragged, and I dragged it until it was safely on the patio. (think I might have a hernia now) I then covered it and waited for the rain to stop.

Yesterday was that day. Shouldn’t take long to assemble it, should it? After hacking the box apart with a steak knife (Useful saw tooth edge) the machine was exposed in all it’s unassembled glory. Apart from the main machine, there were the following.

Enclosed in a plastic bag was a spark plug spanner, a round bit of metal with a flat end (I’ve no idea what that’s for), An engine manual, and most importantly. the assembly pamphlet.

This is where it became a nightmare. I’m used to flat pack furniture instructions, which to me are dire at the best of times. However the assembly instructions for the mower make dire sound positively ebullient.

The written part seemed to be composed by someone not of this world. Why refer me to “diagram 19”, when it doesn't exist? What’s more the assembly drawings seemed to have been produced by a 2 year old using a 30 year old photocopier.

Every time that I thought I’d got one step right, I had to redo it when I tried the next step. Now I’m not trying to assemble the engine here, I’m just trying to get the handle, cables, and the grass box sorted. What should have taken fifteen minutes took and hour and fifteen.

Why is it that the people who are tasked with writing this garbage not take a pride in their work and do it properly? Is that not too much to ask.

Of course I’ve got the professionally produced engine manual if I need it. It’s even written in eleven languages. Pity there isn’t a section in English.

Anyone out there who can teach me Polish?

Mothers’ day

Just saying.

Virus

I don’t think that the owner has really read the handbook.

Pony steak anyone?

My poor little pony.