heyfeve

I’m fucking riddled with hay fever. I shouldn’t complain, I will though.

I could take antihistamine but I refuse. Stuff is weird and has an odd effect on me, aside from drowsiness it makes me feel like I’ve been wiped with a blotter, mildly spiked, the state of confusion has in the past triggered panic attacks and I’d rather do a line of grass pollen and rub cat dander into my eyes than have one of them. I also discovered my dad had a similar reaction when taking antihistamine as it did to that old chap at work after taking ibuprofen, which sounds the death knell for me and that stuff forever. Both of ‘em.

If I’m to be perfectly honest I hate taking medication, even aspirin. It’s the thought of reacting badly to it that keeps me from jumping into the kitchen cabinet if I so much as hiccup. This is quite odd because I’m more than happy to pour toxins into my fat liver and fumigate my lungs with deadly gasses that, according the latest news on fag packets, will give me cock-rot. If fact, until quite recently, I was even happier to stuff my nose, lungs, stomach and any other available orifice, with immediately fatal narcotics.

Sadly the paranoia surrounding over-the-counter oral medication has led to my cessation of street thrills. I’ve even virtually quite dope, something unimaginable to my 20-year-old self. These days I’m quite content to knack myself with nice taxable drugs, arguably the more dangerous cache of available narcotics, street or otherwise. Go me.

Anyway, the old guy at work is back on his perch in the office as if nothing has happened, only the dried pool of blood by his desk serves as a testament to his mishap. The fucking government are still holding my Black Bitch captive. It’s been five days already. Five. Between you and me I’m worried sick.

Dreadful/hilarious video, I should imagine most will feel the same about the pop song that goes with it.