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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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2005-06-21 - 8:40 p.m.

It's been a few days hasn't it? Been working shitty shifts again. Any way, what a week it's been. Where shall I start?

With the row I had with a DJ live on air and the subsequent calls for me to sod off the Island? The continuing bike saga? The much loved pet that died? The mad uncle?

I think the row don't you?

Ok, remember my citizenship ceremony and the controversial DJ I invited and then worried about? Well, he was doing a phone-in about a certain celebrity who's just dodged the bullet and I, as a person with a degree in criminology, decided to call up and give my take on the situation. Now I know he is a wind-up merchant and that he was trying to purposely wind me up for his ratings.

I know that.

Which is why I am mad at myself for taking the bate and ending up in a full blown row live on air which must have lasted a good 10 minutes. Shamedly I resorted to making fart noises down the phone whilst shouting that he was talking through his arse at one stage. Hey, the bloke wasn't listening to what I was saying, put words in my mouth and made assumptions about me based on my negative opinions on the bloke! I am pretty good in an argument and held my own, used the DJs own arguments against him and angrily told him not to call me 'LOVE' in a patronising way. When he lost the argument he cut me off and then continued to have a go at me on air whilst I couldn't defend myself.


Then the phone calls, texts and emails from stupid Islanders started coming in. Some were in support of me but the majority (that he read out any way) were calls for me to piss off back to the Midlands and that I was a 'gobby Brummie' who must be on my PERIOD just because I have opinions! I guess that I made things worse by claiming that the majority of Islanders loved Jacko because they were so old they looked like the cast of his Thriller video.

I'm not proud of my behaviour.

(Although secretly I am). Sod 'em, sod 'em all that's what I say. The DJ then started to feel bad about the row and asked me to call back up so that we could be friends again. I stuck my fingers up to the radio and ignored him.

The Bike - lost somewhere in the back of some moron delivery driver's van. They've offered to send me another one which will be at least another 11 days. I argued that if the moron delivery bloke couldn't deliver the first, how were they expecting him to deliver the second. The woman on the phone had no answer for me so still I wait for my sodding bike to show up. I've been riding Phoe's to work in the meantime and my arse is bearing witness to the joys of a small, hard saddle. It takes me 10 minutes to ride to the ferry and half an hour to get back. Guess which way is uphill and which is down? I wanted to set myself goals on how far back up hill I could get every day. The first day I made it about 10 yards before doing a Homer Simpson and collapsing on the tarmac fearing the onset of a heart attack.

....I just walk it now :(

My Mad Uncle - The one who tried to hang my other uncle when they were kids? He's been doing the naked thing again AND he's dropped a door on my other uncle's head causing him to have to go to hospital. The sad thing is, hospital-uncle had only just arrived back home after a trip to Poland. Welcome home unc.

Dead Pet - Phoe's precious Cockatiel became ill very suddenly and basically died in her hands. I was holding it and giving it some comfort to give Phoe a break when it suddenly reared up and started making a really horrible noise. I called Phoe who came running in and took her from me just in time for it to go limp and die. It was really horrible and awful to watch as she tried to massage it's heart and bring it back to life, tears falling down her face. Phoe's been through some terrible shit in her time and she is very very attached to her pets, especially this cockatiel. It even made me, the emotional cripple cry! We don't really have a garden so had to sneak out to the park at 10.30pm with a shovel to bury it in the undergrowth of the woodland walk area. The ground was so hard, the tree roots were solid and I was painfully aware that I was digging a hole in the middle of the night somewhere people don't venture in DAYLIGHT let alone in the dark! I didn't believe the hole was deep enough but wasn't getting any where fast so we buried her and dragged stuff over the top so that the ground didn't look disturbed.

I've been paranoid that we would see the body of her beloved pet half eaten by foxes across the path in the park ever since. I must stop thinking this way, it's going to age me....

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