I'm Ill

So this my 100^th post. It’s long overdue if you ask me. I mean, it’s not going to be the 100 post special, but it is the 100^th post. I want to say; I hope you understand, but I’m sure you do. If you don’t understand, here’s something that you might find more amusing; something more fitting to one of your intellect.

Now that we’ve got that out of the way. I’m ill. I don’t ever like to moan about being ill, but I do. I often do things I don’t like, though. Such as ironing (I haven’t ironed any clothes for like a year) and reading about celebrities. You just can’t help yourself sometimes, though. You get to work and there’s nothing to read apart from a 4-page spread about Jordan (the slag)’s latest attempt at spreading her genes. She failed the first time, you think she’s learn by now. Like a dyspraxic Midus, everything she touches turns to shit. Which brings me round to my headache; I sometimes dream that she sneaks into my room and massages my brain. It’s not sexual (it is), but it’s still nice.

I don’t even know what I’m talking about, but such is the joy of illness. You don’t need to make sense. If I had said any of this stuff 60-years-ago, I would have been locked up and given electro shock treatment.

Euan was given electro shock treatment once. They were attempting to give him emotions, but we all know well that went.