I'm tired of the bullshit; everyone is. I am draining all around me because it's "what bulshit is it this time?" If it's not a leg boil then it's PTSD. If it's not that then it's my failing once again to fix things that got broken—which triggers anxiety and PTSD. I'm a leech sucking joy with my bullshit. And just when you think one turd is done and dusted there's yet more bullshit.I would hate to be in my life; to deal with my bullshit.
Articles from Harrangue Man
British men or men raised by British men have a tendency to walk with their hands clasped behind their back, typically displayed when surveying a part of the world that wasn't theirs but they took anyway. If you watch old movies with British officers you'll see they all do it.Then men in my family—save for me—are tall. They're so tall they don't clasp their hands behind their back; they grip one wrist with the other hand.
Next door is having a jam session. They're all men, middle-aged and up, and congregate normally on a Sunday; but with the Canberra Xmas-NY shutdown it means they're free to rock it on a Friday.And rock it they are.
I have what one podiatrist described as "the worst feet ever seen". It's not like I set out to do it—it happened due to pre-natal neglect—but my feet are flat, splayed and with toe nails sunk deep into the bed, They're hideous.
The first 72 hours after a groin kicking knock are the hardest. You're in a heightened state of unreality because the universe does not make sense.It's an intense sublimated bafflement that grips you body and mind.It happened on my ride and I got home in an eerie state of calm on the edge of yawning unreason.I fell back on CBT to talk my way through it by narrating what I was doing in a calm way in order to be calm.
We went to the coast for Christmas but as luck would have it I flared another leg boil and could not move for three days properly before Xmas then had the boil "opened" Xmas morning in order to relieve it—an exquisite pain response where I had to bite into a towel lest I wake the park with a yowl at seven am.So I couldn't go to the pools and I couldn't walk; I was stuck in the cabin again.The worst moment was one day two when theboy hurt himself on a bathroom tap and yelled in pain and agony.
Gotham City, DC comics United States: Insane clown-themed criminal "The Joker" sent the vat of acid that caused his hideous transformation a Christmas card, Arkham Insane Asylum sources report.The Joker's card expressed fond seasonal wishes to the vat and wished that it and its family all the best for the coming the holiday season."It's not unusual for our prisoners to send cards to inanimate objects.
With the traditional Ozzer cultural downtime for the Christmas and New Year combined with Summer school holidays it means my home alone time has come to an end.
I'd used The Highlands teleport helmet in the inner zone but landed in the valley before the crown. The Wizard was there and I toaded the fucker with the toadify spell.It was a Race to the Crown result and then he simply hopped onto the crown space in all his toady glory to win.Beaten by a toad; that's a fail.