I have been in pain for weeks. I have no idea what's up with me. I ache everywhere. Even my hair hurts. I find it hard to walk, move, breathe, laugh (obviously) or do anything really. Every day I wake up and it takes me about 10 minutes to get out of bed. Of course, I could go to the doctors and find out what's wrong with me but that is the coward's way, not my way. I'd much rather live with the pain and throw a shroud of ignorance over myself, therefore never knowing if it's something really serious that could kill me.
It is the only cure that I know works 100%. Ignoring things is a medical wonder that has baffled scientists, doctors and Jesus for years but it definitely works. Got a headache? IGNORE IT. It's nothing. Your right side has gone numb? PAY IT NO MIND. It'll go away. Your cock is on fire? DON'T GIVE IT THE TIME OF DAY. It'll soon burn itself out.
Look at these fucking idiots who have died of the piggy cold. They went to hospital, told the doctors that they had piggy cold and THEY DIED. Coincidence? I think not. My grandfather smoked, drank and had heart attacks every day of his life and he lived to be nearly 200 years old. He was killed by an ambulance racing to save some cunt who had phoned the hospital complaining of pains. The dick.
I'm glad I've ignored my pain because it HAS gone away. Last night, my friend Marisa came to see me at The Stand Comedy Club in Edinburgh and after the gig massaged my shoulders. Not in a wet drama student way, I mean a proper massage. She's a real masseuse and she's amazing. Basically, she asks you to relax your body, sit comfortably, breathe calmly and then she batters the fuck out of you. There is truly a very fine line between a relaxing massage and a big kicking. But it worked. Yes, it hurt but afterwards I felt fantastic. All day today I've been walking like a normal human and not some old man who was shot in the dick by Hitler during the war. Thank you, Marisa. You're fantastic. I feel great. That's nice, isn't it? I like a massage with a happy ending.
Even seeing Wolverine today couldn't ruin my good feeling of having a fully functioning body again. It's a terrible film that tells us next to not fuck all about how he became a mutant. It is incredible how they made the film as both a prequel to X-Men and a sequel to Van Heilsing. How they did it I don't know or give a fat fuck. It's just two hours of Big Things Hugh Jackman Can Punch. He punches a man, a tree, a house, a helicopter and, finally, a big power station. Will.I.Am from The Black Eyed Peas is in it in case you need any more convincing of it's bag-of-ballsness. Avoid.
Looking forward to the next three nights here at The Stand. It's a fantastic comedy club. The last two nights in Glasgow and Edinburgh have been very good but I think the weekend gigs are going to be even better. Look how happy I am? That massage sure has worked. I love you all!
Blame Marisa.
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2 comments:
That advice seems medically sound to me, back in september my little finger on the left hand stopped working and I didn't go near the doctor, the fact it hasn't fallen off must be proof that it works.
...but Hugh Jackman is in Wolverine, do you not have a (heterosexual) crush on him?
Not as much as he does himself. Hugh LOVES Hugh.
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