An array of guff to cover today, which is appropriate as I have quite revolting flatulence. You know that flatulence is bad when you are revolted by your own. That is just poor.
I was asked last weekend my view of UFOs. This followed a conversation about the death of the late Princess Diana, whether I think there is a conspiracy or not. No I don't, it probably wasn't investigated very well at the time, hence the 'unanswered questions' so beloved of the Daily Express, but it was an accident. Look, the Daily Express is published by a man who made his fortune out of publishing fantasies about attractive young women. Anyway, UFOs, well, I believe in 'em, on the grounds that there is a kind of arrogance in thinking that we are the only planet with intelligent life. On the other hand, if I was an alien, and I came here and abducted the kind of people who claim to have been abducted, and 'tested' them, I wouldn't hang about to find out more. I'd fuck off and look at somewhere else. I suspect that there are loads of different beings who've been here, and had the misfortune to abduct one of the 98% of the population who are thick twats. So, having put back what they picked up by mistake, they have followed my advice. Besides, the first impression of us is likely to be the radio and tv signals we give off. And if you're sophisticated enough to travel across light years of space, why would you hang around a planet that emits Chris Moyles and 'Eastenders'?
I haven't covered politics here for a while, you must all be missing my great erudition. Who needs Andrew Marr or Nick Robinson? Anyway, why doesn't Blair just go and play in the traffic? And as for the suggestion that Doctor 'Uncle Joe' Reid might be a suitable successor - what kind of drugs are these nutters using? This is a man with a Communist past who to this day is quite happy that he has no respect for the ideas of democracy, freedom and liberty. He is happy to ignore the judiciary and bypass his own legislation. The man is a cunt, and you know that that puts him in the same league as Harry Redknapp, Phil Mitchell and, apparently, Jools Holland.
"Mirror mirror, on the wall, who's the sweetest of them all?"
Who'd've thought it?
As I sit here with the telly on, it seems that Tony and Carm Soprano like 'Smoke On The Water'. There's something smileworthy about that. NB. Don't anyone get the idea of spoiling this for me.
We'll cover this today, as today I have been experiencing one of it's better elements, although this is potentially distressing for those around me. But the general theme of history for such a day is "Fuck 'em".
Right, so what is this LPS whingeing then? LPS is this stuff. Because the leading brand is purple. Anyhow, it has the obvious benefit of preventing epilepsy, which is handy, because a) it is frightening for people who witness it, and b) it is a fairly shitty experience. My own, which is consequent to a severe bang on the head when I was ten, manifests itself with a pretty nasty headache, hallucinations and a constant stream of verbal drivel, utter incoherent drivel (how can anybody tell, I hear you ask?), no, really bizarre stuff. I also struggle to make myself heard, which means I make a real effort to talk this drivel. If it really kicks off, there is the convulsions and all of that - apparently, as I'm not around to know what's going on at that point, having lost it. When I regain consciousness, usually fifteen to thirty minutes later, the headache is still around, only really nasty now.
The full monty hasn't happened for a while, which is handy, as it means I can drive, and I don't have a propensity to break my nose or otherwise do myself harm any longer. There is still the odd occurrence in my sleep, but that is manageable, and the only real consequence to that is that I generally wake up with a fucking sore tongue where I've bitten it, and, yes, you've guessed, that bastard headache. It doesn't even have the generosity to throb, more just to roll about in my head, like a sort of spirit level.
So, there we have the background. Anyway, the LPS, we've dealt with the purple, but why L and S, especially if it gets rid of this annoying condition. Well, there we have it, it doesn't really get rid of it, just lessens the instances and impact. It hasn't gone, just is less able to interfere.
L, because, rather naively, I had sort of thought that one day I could stop taking the stuff. Since last October, when I saw a neurologist for the first time in yonks, I am now clear that I'm taking it for ever. After living two thirds of my life with a hopeful delusion, I was a little hacked off and embittered at having to adjust to this truth. S, because with all medicine, there's no such thing as a free lunch. It has a number of side effects, some of which are also only coming to light recently, although I am well researched in the stuff. It can mess about with one's mood. It can make your hair fall out, it can make your body more hairy, make your hair curl, so it makes you into a werewolf, mess about with your liver (hence my recent bout of resentment), it can increase your appetite and, just for laughs, increase your propensity to put on weight; yes, I'm a fat fucker too, something else the GP harps on about. It thins the blood - I don't use aspirin - and means that there is a tendency for unexplained bruises to appear, and it takes much longer for a cut to stop bleeding.
I also find it socially restrictive - it is always a consideration. A couple of late nights and...that headache pops up to warn me who's lurking. It doesn't have great keeping qualities, which ties me to the GP for repeats.
Anyway, that's the downsides. However, there is Lunatic Pervy Smile. It has been documented that people sometimes feel 'better' for an epileptic seizure, as though there is a 'release' or relief of some kind. This was reported during studies of ECT. Well, I subscribe to this. When the headache finally goes away, I am left with a real high. No-one seems able to tell me what it is that's causing this i.e what is the chemical that is making me buzz like Tigger on caffeine, but I do. I'll spend the day, and beyond with an inane grin, everything is entertaining, mostly ridiculous, and I laugh a lot for no reason obvious to anyone else. This regularly meant serious trouble at school, and usually coincided with at least a detention and occasionally a letter sent to home. I get a fantastic sense of detachment, like a spectator looking in on a sitcom. I don't despise the twats, just laugh at 'em. This is why I have asked what it is that's making me buzz so, because I'd like to know if it can be synthesized and sold. There's a mega-fortune to be made there.
Today has been a smiley day, able to avoid trouble because I've spent it mostly in the company of two of the cooler people I have to work with, who cut me a hell of a lot of slack as a rule, so just accept a better quality of bullshit with a smile. That's why I've written this. Today I can live with the LPS. Probably tomorrow, too. But next week I'll resent it again, mostly 'cause it is just a bind.
And I fucking hate that headache.
Right, enough of that self-pitying tripe, I'm off to look at pictures of naked women and make believe its Sparkly Eyes.