(no subject)

Well, here's another possible explanation for why I've been knackered all week. It might not just be the early mornings, the walking about, or the light sunburn: I think my insulin's stuffed. It probably got frozen and then thawed during the whole f****d fridge farrago - it looks normal, but if it froze up, it's dead. Also thanks to fridge shenanigans, my script is used up, so I have to crawl off to the GP to get another. Wahey. (I oughtn't to complain. I get the stuff for free. Googling other folks' experiences with accidentally frozen insulin has reminded me how lucky I am to live in a decent pinko country.)

"Blimey, the sauce of it all."

I'm randomly reading Russell Brand's My Booky Wook (sometimes laughing violently, silently through my nostrils, eg on the bus). From his pen, some advice on originality:

(Of Vic Reeves Big Night Out) "It taught me that you should never pick the first word people would think of, you have to train your mind to sift through the obvious stuff until you come to something that's really funny."

"One of my greatest pleasures in life is coining a mischievous phraseology that other people then have to accept as a linguistic fact. It's exciting to be able to interrupt and alter language... When everything is homogenised and bland, nothing needs to register; if you put things in an unusual fashion... it always makes people listen more."