Manners, Swallowing Stitches & Disco Van

Anyway, I did that yesterday and as if her shit didn't stink, or didn't even shit at all, she just bowled straight on through, nose high in the air. "YOU'RE WELCOME" says I. Loudly. She stopped so sharp I felt a little ripple move through the air as if time itself had stopped. She turned back and with a verbal violence I'd not seen since Kat Slater joined Eastenders, snapped "I beg your fucking pardon? Who do you think you are?" I swear I saw a flash of Lucifer red in her eyes. "I said You're welcome. I held the door for you and you just sailed through like you're one of the elite entitled."
"Do you know who I am?" I started to panic a little thinking maybe she actually was one of the elite entitled, but then my mouth took over and out came "Pierce Brosnan? No actually I don't think he's got hair as shit as yours. Did you actually do your hair this morning or did your mirror tell you lies again and say you looked lush? Anyway Princess, hope you have a nice meeting at Arseholes Anonymous" and before she could counter attack I legged it swiftly. I had no idea who she was nor do I care. One day I'll have the daddy crackers to drag someone back through said door and close it in their face.

A while ago, I had stitches inside my mouth following a tooth extraction, as written in a previous blog. Well I couldn't get an emergency appointment anywhere to get them removed. The hospital said they don't do dental work, I need a dentist. I called a couple of doctors surgeries but the next available appointment was 187 years away so I searched the Google to see if cutting them out myself was a viable option. Well Google says it's really simple. If you have 17 hands, a pair of sterile forceps, a sterile scalpel, a mouth clamp (probably sterile also, though it didn't say) and some saline solution. I rinsed my Gerber lock knife under the tap and prepared for this terrifying minor oral surgical procedure. After 34 minutes of gagging, dribbling, choking and general mis-hapery, I gave up and decided that they'll grow out eventually, and probably before the next available GP appointment. Sure enough, over the next week or so, one came out with a gentle tug and with a rather satisfying pop and the other, well I must have swallowed it in my sleep because it wasn't in my mouth in the morning.

I recently had a problem with my van interior lights a while back and had to replace the radio module that plugs in line to enable the card style remote to control the lights. My Chinese Diesel Heater (Yes, that is their generic name) also came with a remote, which I lost 36 seconds after taking it out of the box. It's a different style remote more akin to a car alarm remote. Well I found the heater remote the other day and with a squeal of delight I tried it out. I slid back the cover and pressed "On". Instantly I was transported back to 1996. Specifically to a rave held in Luton called Exodus. The reason for this amazing transportation was because the heater remote is on the same fucking channel as the lights and "On" just so happens to activate the rave mode of the lights, sending them into a frantic strobe like flash mode. I was half expecting the rest of the car park to come knocking on my door for a bit a party! It gets better. Well for you, not me. It got worse for me. The heater remote also seemed to have blocked the light remote signal so then it was stuck on super fidelity rave mode. After taking half the kitchen wall down, again, and removing the module I finally had lights. On or off lights but hey, that's aways how lights were in the old days, right?

I must go now because I need a poo.

I'm not sure how true this is as I haven't fact checked it but Dreamt' is the only word in the English language that ends with ‘mt.’ I may fact check it whilst I'm having a poo. .