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My eye! Sweet Jesus, Ouch!


Sledge

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As hedge said, I'm losing water mainly, so the weight will go back on. Also, dioralyte isn't tasty, but I am hydrating like a *bramston pickle* to replace fluids lost.

 

As for chemo, it didnt cause my dad to lose much weight, or hair for that matter. Suppose everyones different though. He was nearly 14 stone when i carried him (was usually 11 - 12). He probably put weight on as a final chuckle to wind me up!

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my mate recently went to thailand and over there it still is. well, some form of amphetamine anyway

 

Was that the excuse he gave at Border Control? :P

 

Today well this sort of annoyed me as it gave me an excuse to do little for an hour but I had one staff member (old, moans a lot and doesn't like it when she doesn't get her way) complain that she needed her desk and PC moved, so I did, went to all the time and effort of sorting out longer cables too to do it. Now that was on Tuesday, today she phones me, tells me the room is on a slant (?) and then asks me to move it back so I do. Some people worry me, they really do. :P

 

'FireKnife'

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I want a WE P228. Mostly because of using an UHC springer for some time, that fit my hand better than an USP (which is a KJW clone of Tanaka one, and we all know how "great" those were). Which, actually, is another item on my way too long wishlist that includes:

  • a TF3 vest
  • a cheesy Gothic-fantasy goblet
  • a new shoulder holster
  • and a long list of odd of all kinds
That and I want to do a paramilitary-themed photoshoot of some kind, but I don't want to do it alone and the group is focused on other things at the moment.
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So I'm getting drunk in front of my computer. Here's what happened:

My friend (a girl I tried to bone) invited me to a pub. *suitcase* got *fruitcage*ed up.

1. First thing off: I arrive. There are two benches on which three people can sit comfortably. Left bench is occupied by THE friend, her current BF (a *fruitcage*wad I can't stand, luckily he didn't try to start any *suitcase*), and one more girl. Right bench is occupied by another girl and THE FAT RETARD. Of course the dumb lard-*albatross* can't figure out on his own that he could stop hogging so much *fruitcage* space on the bench and move his stupid *albatross* to make some room for me. Also, it took me a while to figure out he was NOT a girl.

2. A 14-year-old brat comes in, bragging how he managed to bum thirty six cigs (exact number) off random people near the subway station. Then, without saying a word, he grabs MY beer the moment I set it back on the table. I give him a stern look and growl "DON'T EVER TOUCH MY BEER AGAIN."

3. The pub sitdown is getting mind-numbingly boring. The 14-year-old whines that we could have gone to a different pub *fruitcage* knows where, because the beer is supposedly cheaper there (quid twenty, as opposed to what he claimed was quid eighty in the pisshole we were in, so I set him straight saying "I just got a two-quart jug for four quid eighty, so that would be a pint for a quid twenty."). The girl starts poking me to coax something funny from me, but since my mood is shot to *suitcase* by the whiny fourteen-year-old and the fat *fruitcage*, I'm just trying not to grab the chair I commandeered to sit on and beat fifty shades of *suitcase* out of both. And I don't even like the pub we're in!

4. I recall that I still have half a bottle of cheap blended scotch at home, so I snap and decide to bail out (the alternative would be tossing the fourteen-year-old off a nearby bridge, since the pub is in a decorative turret serving as an architectural detail to the bridge in question), saying "Awright, 'twas cool, but I met the retard and I'm *fruitcage*in' outta here." (a quote from a local gag dub of Winnie the Pooh)

 

Seriously, *fruitcage* THIS *suitcase*.

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"Excuse me, barman, I believe that person is underage to drink in here."

 

Barman asks child to leave. 25% of your problems fixed in 10 seconds.

 

Tell the girl what you want. Sex/friendship/relationship, and that her bloke is an *albatross*. At least she will know.

 

You called the 'retard' a retard to his face, and you'd only just met? Not the most polite move.

 

 

You've got friends and money to drink in pubs with them, so life ain't that bad. Chill ;)

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BBC Breakfast. They spend half of the show bleating on about the Oscars, including half an hour on what people wore, and not even one mention of the 6 nations rugby over the weekends. Not everyone cares about what some skinny bint was wearing for a posh party. To make it worse they started talking about some bird tripping on the red carpet but didn't show the footage

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Jennifer Lawrence fell over on the steps yeah, quite unfortunate. She did get the best red carpet response award though... she was asked to tell some fashion reporter about her gown and replied 'this is the top, and this is the bottom' and walked off. Nice to see someone taking the out of the whole process tbh. 

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Wait what is this 'Oscars' balls you are talking about. Everyone knows that the Razzies is the better ceremony.

 

Though what made me laugh was how they awarded Kristen Stewart for worst actress and as she didn't turn up to accept her award they just replaced her with a cardboard cut out, something which actually had more emotion than her.

 

'FireKnife'

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This *suitcase* is ridiculous (not sure if I already told you): my workplace didn't want to sign a new contract with me, because... I wear t-shirts with prints (note, there is no dress code here) and I don't say "good morning" to anyone met at the entrance in the morning (mostly because there is nobody there). Not because I'm grossly incompetent, consistently coming to work two hours late, rude or anything. T-shirts. Took my manager lots of persuasion to change the CEO's mind.

 

If I ever had any respect for this company, I lost it.

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This *suitcase* is ridiculous (not sure if I already told you): my workplace didn't want to sign a new contract with me, because... I wear t-shirts with prints (note, there is no dress code here) and I don't say "good morning" to anyone met at the entrance in the morning (mostly because there is nobody there). Not because I'm grossly incompetent, consistently coming to work two hours late, rude or anything. T-shirts. Took my manager lots of persuasion to change the CEO's mind.

 

If I ever had any respect for this company, I lost it.

 

Buy a few shirts without prints and say hello to every single person you see.

 

Problem solved. Though if they are just after a reason not to give you a job it wont make whichever one they pick.

 

'FireKnife'

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Buy a few shirts without prints and say hello to every single person you see.

 

Problem solved. Though if they are just after a reason not to give you a job it wont make whichever one they pick.

's what I'm doing. But it doesn't help with one more problem, namely idiotic rumors about me that, first, aren't true, and second, even if they were, I deny them as ridiculous. Seriously, that kind of *suitcase* makes me homicidal, as if there's anything worse in people than malicious stupidity, it's inane prattling about *suitcase* you don't know.

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