I love my iPod. Aside from the fact that it's exacerbated my tinnitus one billion-fold and I've now got a permanent whistle in my head, it is the perfect aid to Christmas shopping.
Imagine, if you will, Europe's largest inner-city shopping centre the weekend before Christmas. Now imagine thousands of orange women, swaggering teenage fuckwits, couples walking in slow motion, and fat families going puce with rage as they push prams containing their revolting screaming offspring into your legs.
Yet none of them upset me in the slightest, as into my ears trilled my new hero; Tim Minchin ~
On the downside, I've got a rip in the lining of my anal canal. This made walking around said shopping centre less pleasant than it already wasn't. I have no idea how this tear occurred. Perhaps because things seem to be on the up for me at the moment, God (despite not existing), appears to want to fuck with my bottom, as it were.
I first realised something was amiss when I took a crap at work a couple of days ago and it felt like giving birth. Granted, there's a lot wrong with that sentence, but it was a fresh hell of eye watering pain and blood and lots of trill whispers of 'Why'? as I reached out to clasp wall and bang on the floor with my feet.
Two days on and there's little improvement. Although I'm pretty sure I haven't got haemmorhoids, I did attempt to buy some Anusol this afternoon if only to relieve the burning sensation that's afflicted my backdoor calamari, but I couldn't face the shame - or, indeed, find any. Besides, I'd have only been forced to buy half a dozen other items I don't currently need, just to bamboozle the cashier into not noticing; shower gel (beep), deodorant (beep), tissues (beep), medicated cream for anal ulcerations (beep).
But on the plus side, three and a half working days left til Christmas and the end of the year, nay, the decade.
Merry flippin' Christmas, everyone, and a Happy New Year!!!!!!!