Oh Doctor, it really is bigger on the inside

Well, well, well exams are finally over so now I can feel privileged to now sit at home and do nothing. Good, good. The geography exam had a question about this man, Dr Wamsley and if we approved of his conduct in erridicating the feral cat.

Yes, that is a cat on his head.

Unfortunately today, well fortunately, I don't know, whatever, I had to go to the doctor to get an injection. I'm pretty crap with injections, I dread them, doctors with javelin like needles saying 'this won't hurt a bit' before skewering me to the wall. This may have played a part in today's events.

Injection, fine, I said 'right, thanks' and left the doctors office. Came in, sat down, 'yep, that was fine, not too bad' before everything went white and I fainted. Apparently I started convulsing like I had a fit and moaning, my eyes rolling into the back of my head. Very pretty site indeed. I'm surprised I didn't start foaming at the mouth, to top it off. All I remember was dreaming of horses (a bit like this really) and wondering how odd it was for me to be sleeping. In the middle of the day! Scandalous! Rebel you!

I then awoke with the doctor holding my legs in the air, saying my name and the receptionist holding a glass of water, biting her lip. Even worse I was wearing these pants:
Whose going to take me seriously when I look like Bozos assistant. Well, that was a nice experience. And in two months time, its probably going to happen again. The doctor said the body prepares itself by feeling very hungry (my mother said, 'well thats no use, shes always hungry' thanks ma), sweaty, clammy and in young boys, 'certain things occurring downstairs,' as said in science (except he didn't use the euphemism. In normal circumstances I would've let out an immature giggle, but I was sitting in a dazed state amazed at the sight of my hands. They're amazing really, like feet, on your arms.)

To sound like a sad, pathetic whiny loser. I am sick with a cold on top of that so my eyes keep watering at random periods. Like I'm crying. At anything just, this incompetent right eye ('this chai is just, its just so good'). This always happens when I'm sick. In year 7, whilst watching a 'informative video' on the rainforest it just began, this little stream on my face. Everyone thought I was crying so I asked to be excused, even furthering the whole idea. I was patted on the back and told 'it would all be alright'. Well, its not, so you can't trust HSIE teachers, obviously. Pfft. Sorry for the sad, pity-me way of this post, but there you go. Have a good weekend!

"More Water"- Winning an argument with the workings of Father Ted and the Cats bottom.

The internet hates me. Seriously, it does, any technology hates me especially the internet and these things called computers, complicated stuff I tell you.

So my dad thought he'd be the clever man and get the internet up and running. Instead the whole thing failed due to the fact hes a plonker with technology, like me, but thinks hes not, leaving me muttering under my breath and banging on the keyboard, my usual technique for getting things working (case in point: broken USB port with the insides completely torn apart. To the point of in fact crashing the computer when inserted, beeping profusely and generally looking like the end of the world, the computer that now sits beside me unused, still broken four months later) . He then smugly stated that "well, my internet is working" and came into my room to work his magic hands.

I screamed "I've got my internet".

To which he said "ohhh to be sure, to be sure, the wee lass has got her internet"

This is a recurring occurrence, since living here my accent has gone off the rails. I say "yeah" at nearly the end of every sentence, or statement, or question or practically anything. I say "tortoise" like a Welsh person after repeating it constantly after watching "Mine all Mine" when he smuggles in tortoises. And sometimes my accent just goes odd, this could be because of imitating accents on shows after people say stuff, anything, like my Eastenders period which was painfully horrific ("innit, though?") or miming Audrey Hepburn in Funny Face, a rather nice comparison to Stacey.

So my father runs out of the room shouting "to be sure, to be sure, ohhhh the lass she got her internet, aiiiyy the wee lass" and something to do with potatoes as I hit and, screamed and called him "with plague".

As my father jigged out of the room he repeated his "wee lass" routine until he got down the end and cackled with my mother over my funny accent. Hearing this I shouted "my friend said no one says "to be sure, to be sure" in Ireland!" sounding distinctly like my former five year old self.

My mother replied with "I'm pretty sure they do on Father Ted".

Well, I guess the accent is better than my father winning every argument by pretending to be the cat. Speaking as the cat, even as my cat sits there licking his ass or is asleep. The cats voice a high pitched version of his own produced from the corner of his half closed mouth, in fact, rather obviously open, his attempt at ventriloquism. Never the less, he still wins arguments by talking from the cats arse and even has conversations with him stating "Scratchy is the only intelligent life around this place", "including yourself?". "Yep", "well, thats about right".