Wednesday, March 14, 2007

 

Firstly, a joke.

A woman, standing nude, looking into the bedroom mirror, says to her husband,

"I look horrible. I feel fat and ugly. Pay me a compliment."

The husband replies, "Your eyesight is fucking perfect".

Secondly, an interesting little mememe. All of the answers need to be exactly 3 words long. It's a lot more difficult than you might think. (Stolen from Lithaborn Central.)

  1. Where is your cell phone? With my lady.
  2. Boyfriend/girlfriend? I hope so.
  3. Hair? Going thin fast.
  4. Your mother? Determined old lady.
  5. Your father? Had a laugh.
  6. Your favorite item(s)? I don't know.
  7. Your dream last night? I don't remember.
  8. Your favorite drink? Tea, juice, water.
  9. Your dream guy/girl? In my dreams.
  10. The room you are in? The back room.
  11. Your biggest fear? Losing all hope.
  12. What do you want to be in 10 years? Successful and happy.
  13. Who did you hang out with last night? The TV set.
  14. What are you not? Smart or handsome.
  15. Are you in love? Yes, very much.
  16. One of your wish list items? Riches beyond belief.
  17. What time is it? "It's Chico Time!"
  18. The last thing you did? Read some email.
  19. What are you wearing? Joggers, sweatshirt, trainers.
  20. Your favorite book? "Replay", Ken Grimwood.
  21. The last thing you ate? Crisps. Too many.
  22. Your life? Not so good.
  23. Your mood? OK, I suppose.
  24. Your friends? What friends, dude?
  25. What are you thinking about right now? Going to bed.
  26. Your car? I don't drive.
  27. What are you doing at this moment? Rubbing my eyes.
  28. Your summer? Probably be hot.
  29. Your relationship status? Drifting apart slowly?
  30. What is on your TV screen? The TV's off.
  31. When is the last time you laughed? One hour ago.
  32. Last time you cried? Last Saturday evening.
  33. School? Never go back.

And lastly, a bit of news about Lorraine.

Lorraine phoned last night. Her plans are in disarray because her recurring Uveitus has... Er... Reoccurred. There is a pretty good medical definition here, if anybody is at all interested, but suffice to say, one of her eyes has severe light sensitivity, has turned as blood red as the eye of Dracula after feasting on the blood of a buxom wench, and is causing her some discomfort. Lorraine has seen a Doctor, but needs to go back to the Birmingham Eye Hospital on Monday to get some proper treatment.

I'm not going to make myself out as some kind of know-it-all-hero, but I need to say at this juncture that I am pretty annoyed.

Lorraine has had this condition, on and off (mostly off) for over 7 years. The worst time she had of it was when it first started, circa 2000. She was off work for 4 weeks, had blurred vision, wore dark glasses (like a rock star) and/or an eye patch (like a pirate) constantly, could not stand to have any lights on in the house and could not watch TV or bear to look at a computer screen at all. She had treatment (an injection into the eyeball was part of it - eeek!) and eventually it cleared up.

The condition has come back periodically. Maybe 3 more times in 7 years. It's never been as bad as that first time because, at the first sign of any problem, she would go to the Birmingham Eye Hospital, they would do their voodoo and after a day or two she would be fine.

Midweek, last week, she started getting some discomfort in her eye. She said that her vision was blurred and it was "itching". I told her to go the Eye Hospital. She said it was probably nothing. On Friday she had a bloodshot eye. I told her to go to the Eye Hospital. She said she couldn't because she wasn't going to interrupt her holiday and had a train to catch early on Saturday morning. I said that the train could wait and that she could travel on the Sunday instead. She said to stop telling her what to do and that she would be OK.

She wasn't OK.

If I didn't love her I would give her a kick up the arse. What's that phrase I'm going to use when she comes back on Saturday? Ah, I remember it.

I told you so.

Maybe not. I will be nice.

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Comments:
I think you should be nice. She's already beating herself up for not going to the hospital earlier, I'm sure. Also, I wanted to let you know that I've fallen hard for Amy Winehouse. It took a while, but I really like her.
 
I'm always nice.

;-)
 
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