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Rescue Chickens

The Kindness of Strangers

Does my arse look fat in this soul?

The demon of paranoia re-visits old Sket

On The Road......

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2006-08-21 - 9:35 p.m.

....even I'm disgusted with myself.

and THAT'S saying something!

As you all know, I'm one hell of a lazy bastard and well, yesterday I could stand it no more and decided to change my bed linen.

To my horror, there was definite 'Turin shrouding' of the undersheet. I'm not saying you could see a crown of thorns or anything but my mother would definitely have been able to identify me if it were used in some freaky, soon to be cancelled 'identify your daughter from her dead skin and dried drool' game show! Talking about my mother, she did not bring me up to be a major slob yet I still hold her ultimately responsible.

My reasoning? If she hadn't taken such good care of me I'd never have become so complacent and incapable of taking care of myself (see how I have used society's sickness of never accepting responsibility for one's actions and blamed another human being for my sheer bone idleness? Brilliant isn't it?)

I'm not going to let things get into that state again, I swear. I mean, I've got phobias about seeing the face of the last person who peed in a public toilet I'm about to enter, I've got other burgeoning germ phobias and I have to throw away the butter if some dirty bastard has scraped some back into the container from their knife. So why must I still live in a complete state of slobbery?

Enough of the deep questioning of my soul. I did something minorly bad on Saturday. It was the local Garlic Festival so Phoe and I went. It was ok-ish but not as good as it has been in the past. There was a bloke promoting great big static caravans and people could walk around them. Unfortunately he jumped on us the second we walked in and wanted our names and addresses (so we could be sent loads of crap adn junk mail no doubt). He wasn't watching as I filled out the paperwork and I gave my name as Miss Anne Thrope of 57 Shit Street. The silly git never even noticed AND I nicked his pen!

Hahahaha!

In other news: I nearly shit myself today! I snuck home during appointments and decided to stop procrastinating and actually update my car insurance to cover me for erm, going out on appointments. Oh yeah, and I thought I'd better tell them that I'm no longer a student and that I've had a more powerful engine put in the car. They were fine throughout most of the information transfer until I told 'em the engine bit.

Anyone would have thought I'd broken into the woman's house and pissed all over her dinner! For a second she was lost for words, then she stuttered about putting me on hold whilst she checked something out.

"What size engine is it now?"

"1500"

"You can't have 1500. You can only have 1300 or 1600!"

"....despite it being a 1500? Why?"

"That's what the computer says madam"

MADAM? M A D A M!!!!!!! I feckin HATE being called madam. It makes me sound like a granny!

"Well, the computer wasn't actually there when we put the 1500 engine IN so I don't know how it can decide that. Gimme the bloody 1600 quote then and we can all pretend"

(me and my smart mouth)

"My supervisor has just informed me that we will not insure you now that you have modified your car so your policy is now null and void. Is there anything else I can help you with madam?"

Modern customer service techniques heh? We're about to condemn you to death, do you want fries with that? mentality. I hate it. I was also between appointments in a car with no insurance. SHIT! I didn't have time to sort it and had to pray that my nemesis THE FATES weren't going to yank my chain by deciding to break my 10 year + clean driving record and ensure that I smash into something whilst uninsured.

I felt sick.

Fortunately they were looking the the other way and I got away with it and found a classic car specialist to do the job.

Gulp

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