I am in humourless cheer. I was riding into work with the usual pigs bladder on a stick atop my creaking spine, when it occurred to me that it wasn’t actually a hangover that was causing my unflinching gloom. I noticed that the area in the back of my head, the part that fills with the hideous globs of hangover soup, was actually clear, yet the front was a chunky porridge o’ fuck. I ran through last night drink menus, I’d had sufficient but hadn’t over indulged. I sneezed inside my helmet (and no I didn’t spray snot all over the inside of my fucking visor, this isn’t a Will Farrell comedy, this is me biking to work in a fucking bad mood and sneezing, so piss off, yeah) gracious me, I pondered, for I appear to be with a cold.
In addition, or as a result, I’m stone deaf in my right ear and for some reason I have a petulant semi. It’s one of those days already, it’s non-weather outside, the metrological equivalent of beige, the office is half empty and those that are in are sending vacuous bastard e-mails round which I have to open to check it’s not business, only to be confronted with a long list of ‘funny’ ‘really-they-said-that in court!’ things Lawyers never said in court so long as I have a hole in my freckle and (now) a bendy woody.
Last night I met my mate from up the road for a pair of ales in the local, I was back home in plenty of time to bathe (hey, I always clean under the fosh) and prepare supper before a documentary I’d been looking forward to about two sixteen year old American twins…(sounds cool huh, eh lads, eh? Phwaor) who shared the same body. *pop*
For the first 15 minutes I was frozen in state of surrealism. One body, a little wider than average but for all intents and purposes ‘normal’ with two heads sprouting out the top. There was something a little Zaphod Beeblebrox http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zaphod_Beeblebrox about them, as one of them was ‘quieter’ than the other, but largely, they were both perfectly normal bright young women, just in the same body…same body…same bod…
…Anyway, what transpired was quite a touching and, if I may indulge, inspiring documentary, especially if your sister is sat on your shoulder and you parked your breakfast unanimously, about two perfectly normal 16 year old girls, doing what two perfectly normal 16 year old girls do, but sharing a tit each. Their condition was unique and on account of their very attractive mother (come on, I was expecting the equivalent of Pat Butcher: burns victim) and rather dashing father, had been protected from the probing proboscis of wide-eyed doctors. What was also rather moving was the way their school chums and teachers treated them and when necessary, protected them.
Obviously as the girls were getting older other more fundamental questions had to be answered *winks* and when I was brushing my teeth this morning the answer came to me. Two bisexual men will solve any possible problem, but I shall leave it to your imaginations to figure that one out, it won’t take long I promise.
So back to me, as I’m more important and my problems far outweigh those of the two little tarts in tellyland, three colleagues in near proximity are talking fucking shit at volume and it’s shortening my already very short fuse. Really, I don’t know about you but I think the thick should be fed to the poor whose subsequent shit should be used by farmers, but only farmers in the third world, yeah. Peace y’all.
(I now have a full blown erection, blast)
