If It's Not One Thing...

I am in a reasonably severe amount of pain. This morning's barrel of laughs was slipping on the stairs at Moorgate Tube - thankfully only one step up or it'd likely be pretty bad news - and landing badly on my right ankle when I came down. Nothing's broken or anything but now it is incredibly painful to move or put weight on. Which makes pressing the 'play' pedal on my transcription machine no end of fun. I'd just push it with the left, but that's so counter-intuitive that I end up using my right foot on instinct anyway and then it's a fresh and painful surprise, so I may as well not bother.

Thankfully, I carry a reasonably well-stocked first-aid kit. So now my ankle is wrapped to offer a degree of support so it's not too bad at the moment. However, I will be leaving early today because stamping on a pedal and holding it down while typing out words when one's ankle keeps screaming when one moves it ... not so much a thing I like the sound of for large amounts of time anyway, but follow it up with strap-hanging on the Misery Line for 40 minutes or so? Nooooo.

While I whimper to myself, I shall be considering drabble (yeah, I know, at work, stuff to do, but I don't want to stamp the stupid transcription machine pedal and there's nothing else to do but type really, so sue me). Those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, see this post. I think I might do the thing about "is that a good sign?" next, to be honest, as it fits in so well with the HIPPIE-verse as I know it. Plus it suits my mood, right about now.

If I'd known it was going to be this way, I'd have brought my cane in.

.....That's just made my day, that has.

George Carlin died.

Yeah, I'm not using euphemisms for it here - he'd have hated that. He is worm food. And that sucks beyond the expressing of it. Oh yeah, had a good run, he was old by his own admission, blah blah, bullshit bullshit, but fuck, even though I didn't know him, I'm going to miss knowing he's out there, somewhere, as angry as I am and more eloquent with it, making money out of the very people he's rightfully insulting.

He and Bill Hicks better be sitting around whatever afterlife there is with drinks and some really choice commentary on Bush, I can tell you.

I'm running out of heroes.