Scribbler’s Laid A Big Juicy Log

I can’t pronounce Baccaruda…
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This blog has been following the ups and downs of my life since November 4th 2000. Amazingly, it's still going.


Archive for the ‘Illness / Injury’


Oh, there’s an election?

Well, at the minute, I have more important things on my mind. Remember my finger? Well, tonight, it really, quite literally, fell to bits.

I was in the bath, and all of a sudden, I noticed blood leaking from the sore, and running down my nail. It appears that all of the skin around it was completely dead. The hot water had softened the dead skin to a point where it just had to release the contents. It really wasn’t nice. Apparently, there WAS pus still in there, and that also leaked out.

This is what it looks like now. I won’t show the picture, you have to click the link, as it’s not pretty. I really don’t know whether it’s good or bad that everything has leaked out. It certainly ruined a night out in Newcastle, as it was on my mind all night. Bastard.

Anyway. I’m going to start a new blog post about this election thing and hope that it takes my mind from it…

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Oh, my head. And finger.

Well, let me just start off by saying “Ow.”

I’m currently in considerable pain both because of the halloween party,and my infected finger. It OFFICIALLY can’t have came at a worse moment. See, I’m off work for a week.

Yesterday, after finishing a diabolically unimpressive shift at Employment Palace, I started examining the infection in the finger. It was getting bigger by the minute. “Oh, I’ll just stab it with a pin again, release some of that pus.

Great idea. In went the pin. Out came nothing but blood, and a string of expletives as I let out the loudestscream of pain I’ve ever done. Something wasn’t right.

So, off I go to the qucks. After sitting in the quacks waiting room for 45 minutes, I get seento. It took no more than 4 seconds for the doctor to prescribe me some antibiotics and some cream to rub into it. What wasn’t awesome is the price the medication came to… £14.20. I have a job, what a mug I am.

I’ve just taken the first tablet. If there’s no change to it by Monday, I have to go to the hospital. Therefore, it means a week off work without any drink. LOOOOOL. What good timing. Apparently, one of the side effects of these particular tablets is fits. Things just get better and better. I just hope that they don’t turn my piss pink like the last ones did.

Last night, I attended a Halloween party, which is the reason for the bad head. I went in fancy dress as a Roman. Unfortunately, some idiot managed to delete all of the images I took from the camera. It was probably me and my big fat faulty finger.

What was even worse was actually getting to the party.

I’d arranged to meet at MS’s house. Now I’ve never been there before, so I didn’t know where he lived, so I got the address, and got Daddykins to drop me off. MS sent me a text…

“When you get here, just come in, the door is open”

So, I arrived, and entered through the front door. I was confronted with a woman, who had just got out of the bath, wrapped in a dressing gown.

My jaw dropped, and so did my arse. Turns out MS lived a couple of doors away.

The party was good, from what I can remember of it. Normally, I have my photos to look back on, but the only ones that survived appear to have been taken by someone else. I think it was when I accidentally downed 7 different varieties of schnapps, that things went hazy.

No, really. Accidentally.

I thought I was trying different varieties of alcopop, as I’d never had schnapps before, I didn’t know what it tasted like. Upon my realisation of this fact, I could almost hear Scott Bakula saying “Oh boy…” before the quantum leap credits rolled.

At some point I remember losing my bag containing my shoes and camera.

I honestly didn’t intend to get drunk, for today I’m off to London. Earls court to be precise, as Chris, via his brother Jonathan, has managed to secure tickets for Top Gear Live. Awesome.

Unfortunately, Chris has something planned tomorrow, so the original plan of getting down there, watching the show, then getting the train back the following day has been condensed into one day, meaning that I’m going to spend a hell of a lot of time on the train today. I guess it saves the cost of a hotel room for the night though.

Needless to say, I’m taking my camera. I shall return with photos tomorrow, presuming I don’t delete them all…

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The worst day. Ever.

I am too traumatised to blog about what happened yesterday. It is the morning after the night before, and once again, good old alcohol made a reappearance, which slowly caused my world to collapse in on itself.

And no, I wasn’t the one to get so palatic that I “tripped over” a seven foot stepladder in the kitchen and had to be picked up by two of my mates. Oh, no siree. That wasn’t me. It was Daddykins.

I really cannot describe how I feel at the minute. I’ve not spoken to him since the incident, maybe because shortly after he went to bed and has yet to surface.

He suffered a considerable gash to his left arm which may, or may not require stitches…

In other news, which normally would get a blog on its own, I popped my septic finger yesterday too. Pus spurted about 6 foot across the room, and I think I went into shock for a bit.

SO, that’s the news. I can’t put into words how shit I feel at the minute. It truly feels as if my world has ended. Lovely depression, here we go again!

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An update on my ankle

Well, it’s taken 4 attempts to get round and write a post, and I’ve decided to do this one when I’m so tired, I’m finding it difficult to string logical sentences together. So, this is going to be a howler.

Well, my foot is still hurting lots. Thanks to all of you for your concern, and even more thanks to those who weren’t concerned. Imagine the hilarity when I came back to work to hear *all* of the jokes and jibes! Quite a few people found it ironic, however, that the injury was caused by a joke book, when I’m the one who’s usually causing injury by telling them, however, MS was the one who raised the schadenfrauder bar to a whole new level, making some kind of remark such as “awww, broke yer toenail?” every time I hobbled helplessly past.

Things didn’t get any better, as I got profoundly beaten by Richard, with a score of 4-0. I blame the fact my concentration was somewhere else, thanks to my ankle. Clearly, I’ll be using this as an excuse for the next six months every time I lose at something.

Anyway, bed!

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Ow.

Oh, man. I am in so much pain at the minute. Yesterday, I went arse over tit down the stairs, after Daddykins left an “Absurdly big Joke Book” on there, and have ended up spraining my ankle pretty badly. So, I’m now sat downstairs, in my boxer shorts, in agony.

The irony is, the bloody joke book isn’t even that good. 703 pages of jokes such as this one…

In the middle of the night, the woman nudged her husband saying “Jack, I think I heard a noise downstairs. Are you awake?”
“No,” he replied.

I’m sure you’ll agree that’s a humdinger of a joke. A-hahaha. Oh, my, the tears are streaming down my face with laughter.

No, seriously, that’s the joke. Exactly as it’s printed.

Er, anyway. I’ve been through this sprained ankle shit before. I sprained the very same ankle back in 1997 (or the back end of 1996, not that it matters) when I tried to take a shortcut over the hedge in the front garden, but ended up getting my foot stuck in the top of it, before eventually crashing down to the floor on top of my ankle. Oooo-eee.

THe pain is pretty much the same, though the last time I did it, I went to A+E. All they did was x-ray it, say nothing’s broken, and send me on my way, advising me to keep topped up on painkillers. Now, I could do the same again, but obviously, it’d be pretty pointless. Last time, I didn’t bother with the recommended painkillers, and this time I won’t either. I’m a MAN. None of those little cissy round things for ME! Actually, I just don’t like taking tablets, and would rather have the searing pain.

It means that the last two days have been absolutely pointless. I’ve not been able to do a thing. I’m actually trying to put weight on it now, but it makes me just look like Gregory House. I even have my granddad’s old walking stick.

Seeing as I’m confined to the sofa, I might as well update this through the day. Or something.

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