My snoo is that the..erm..two 'business ends' of my three packages arrived this morning without a wake up, or an incident. I woke up tired from all the flubromazepam last night but I always wake up at around the same time anyway.
So I quickly circumvented a return to bed, for a healthy dose of sleep, and took a small vape of MPA. Then a wee bit more mixed with the tiniest bit of 3-fpm (sorry, Elizabeth
).
I then rang work, knowing business is dead, and we're overstaffed; my father spends his day smoking out the back every 30 minutes. He'll choose a sofa or lazyboy in the furniture shop and nod off until I ring the bell. He'll make two 'skip runs' a day for our half full bins because he doesn't want to pay the council - plus he can always pick stuff up at the dump that's about to be trashed and ask for it. Then we have our secret shop mottoes:
Stick a pound on it.
I'll get some locktite and a clamp.
Did you show it to 'Alright love' (She smells like a decaying, seeping knee, covered in old-time house dust; the type we thought we had eradicated and localised it to Liverpool, Manchester, and Belfast), or have you shown it to A***?
Anyway, the point of the
snoo is that he says I can have the day off. Now I can give Percy's viv out nice and good, Going to sterilize some sticks from a small tree in the garden that fell in recently (months ago
). It's getting removed so I can take off a few small branches with a bow saw or something. Could go the manlier route and use and axe, but who am I kidding. I'd hate to have to go to my local hospital again. They are barely competent!
Years ago my brother, was about three, he stopped being able to walk so we panicked and took him to the hospital. They did an x-ray and said he had a broken femur and asked if he he'd fallen down the stairs or if any of the siblings might be hurting him, or even my parents. They put him in a total leg case:
Then they got social services involved which was a really fucked up time for the family. He went to get re-cast and x-rayed and they said there was nothing wrong. He was walking fine. Many horror stories from that hospital but they have saved my life and other I know. It doesn't lessen my respect for them. If only we could attract the right specialists.
EDIT: Sorry for the tangents and being off-topic. It really wasn't a concerted attempt to turn this thread into my blog
Also - toilet paper is there purely to keep the thing propped up. Tis' 8 years old.
