No pain, No gain. Or rain. In Bahrain. On a train.

Oh, how I must pay for a little fun. And what a dramatic voice said that in me head! I sound like a Shakespearean drama set in Holby City. It's true though, the glorious celebrations of the Amazing Anniversary Of Constanze's Obtainment Of Cancer Which Is Good As She's Not Dead Day have rendered me near on paralysed. I say paralysed, I mean my joints have given up. Especially my legs, they are NOT BENDING. Femur, fibia, tibia and platella are all on strike. Pelvis and vertebrae phoned in sick. Scapula's on a cruise in the Med, sipping some trendy cocktail...

But, luckily, as you can see, my phlanges (Can't quite remember that clever sounding boneual name...) are still with us. I hopes they're fingers. I apologise if that word is actually something pornographic or an offensive word for the mentally disabled. Oh well. I think this blog has already insulted the short/the fat/smokers/sanity/badgers/art students/Conservatives/people who like coffee or leggings/hip hops/vegetarians/people with low pain thresholds/the colour orange/certain doctors/Alan Tittwatmarsh and probably a lot more too, so a few more upset people won't matter... :S I might just google it, instead of typing out loud. WTF Where did pacman go? NO IT IS BONES, thank the lord cheesus. Apart from it has an extra A. I too have an extra a, or my name would be Constnze, which has nearly as many consonants as Polish places that I have been, such as Bygoszcz. Wrzeszcz. That was actually a station, soz for lying folkkksss.

Oh, I could've been happily married to the head of Gdansk's Nazi movement now, where did it all go wrong? (Erm, possibly that bit when you ran away from the scary crazy evil Nazis... Yeah, that'll be it. Nazis not cool. -365656433222 out of ten)

"Do you suffer from mental?" "Why yes, I do. And a bit of old leukaemia too."

So, I hear you all asking, how did your day go yesterday? As previously stated, twas most good, hence the current leg hangover. All went to plan, I saw Tooth Fairy with Marcy, beautiful Marcy, and was disgusted at the low levels The Rock was willing to stoop to to gain back some of his dwindling fame... After Marc had told the whole cinema I had cancer, he left me in a car park while he went to Tesco and I waited for my second lover of the day, Bianca. We shared mounds of pizza and mushrooms and potato skins and strange cocktails sold to us by odd men. My stomach did well.

"Would you like to win an exclusive Sex and the City prize?" No. I'd sooner stab my eyeballs out.

Concerned about Wednesday. I'm going to have less blood, I'd bet anything it's below 8, so sleepy, and Yu to the Sef is going to make me have somes tops ups. I could be having a sexy bone needle too, but I don't know if I made that up in me head along with allt' unicorns on the cob. And, of course, the weigh in. Have I gained? Have I lost? Will they use the measurement to find Higg's Boson and hence the origin of mass? Who knows? We shall have to see. Or observe, if we're going to use PROPA words.

And what happens tonight? It's only the best night of the year, Eurovision. Do not insult Eurovision or I will kill you (or cry)(or chain you up and make you watch every single song). My life has been shaped and moulded by Eurovision since the day I was born. It has made me into this amazing* specimen of a human being I am today. I mustn't get too excited and waves my arms around or I may not be able to move them for a week.

And now, I must leave you, for the jacket potato with cheese is talking to me and enticing me in with it's smell of sexy delicious yumtimes.

xxxXXXxxxXXXxxx

*The words amazing and deranged are interchangeable.

P.s Reading this post back, there seems to be a lot of violence. This is what pre-lunch Robot Wars does to the mind.

P.p.s For the last time, male friends of mine, My eyes are not egg shaped, nor do they look like an Anime character's or a bush baby's.