Huge erectile dysfunction bike
13.09.06, 9:49 pm

Yep, that�s right. I am back from Yokel Central and writing for your reading pleasure once more (hopefully). I need to get this whole entry written by today (Wednesday) as from tomorrow onwards quite a lot is happening in quite a short space of time (smug social butterfly alert, conveniently forgetting the fact that it�s oh so very temporary) and I don�t want to lumber you all with a total novel of an entry.

Okay, so where to start. Oh I know, how about the wonderful experience we had at the service station somewhere off the M6. We were sat eating some lunch, and somehow got onto the topic of the NHS and doctors in general. And I made some comment about rude useless Dr Blood Test, and my sister said, �Yeah, he sounds just like Dr Vienczek, our doctor back in Notts�. And then my dad comes out with, �Oh yeah, you mean the guy who killed your mum�. Total silence. And then I laughed and broke the silence, and if you think it�s because I found it funny then you really don�t know me at all. Then to top the whole wonderful conversation off, we got onto the topic of my dad�s high blood pressure, and horribly, horribly, he thought it okay to then talk about his erectile dysfunction. SO FAR FROM AN OKAY TOPIC OF CONVERSATION. Ugh, it�s just� no. It�s a big big no. As people know, I am the queen of overshare, but even I know that there�s a line that must not be crossed. And my dad sailed over it on his huge erectile dysfunction bike.

In a brief summary, because no one needs to trawl through all the details with me: Somerset was lovely and pleasant and relaxing and all things good. I spent time on the beach, being at one with sun, sand and strange little ant insecty things, and even ventured into THE SEA � a definite go team me. Was definitely the palest person there bar my sister, due to me living a hermit existence this summer. Did a lot of ice cream eating, reading, seagull harassing and yokel impersonating. Seriously, it was the hardest thing in the world to resist doing my Somerset accent the whole time.

Rang Lise yesterday as it was her birthday (she�s 22, which means in six months� time I�ll be 22, and that�s just terrifying). When I told her that I�d sent her a fantastic birthday Somerset postcard, she responded less than enthusiastically. And then when I explained that it was doubly fantastic as it had a sunset on it, she said, �Oh I dunno, the stuff you�ve sent me in previous years has just been a heap of crap�. That girl has no gratitude.

Me: It has not been a heap of crap; it�s all been fantastic.
Lise: You got me a grandma card last year.
Me: Yes, because you were 21! Oh, also, this phonecall is your birthday present as it�s costing me 40p a minute to talk to you.
Lise: Right, so this is my present� talking to you.
Me: I know, it�s bloody fantastic!

Got a grovelling text this morning telling me how fantastic my postcard was. Still can�t believe she�s 22; I can still remember when it was her 12th birthday. Anyway yeah, all in all it�s been a nice trip. The ME thing made it all a bit less enjoyable, but there�s nothing I can really do about it. Speaking of the ME, I bought some ginseng tea today in the hope that it�ll help with the fatigue. Ginseng tea apparently revitalizes and aids recovery from weakness. Ginseng tea is without a doubt the most disgusting thing I have ever tasted. I can�t even describe the foulness; there are no words. However, I�m not sure if it helped or not as I immediately forgot about it after I�d drank it, so will have to drink more tomorrow during the inevitable afternoon lull to see if it does actually make a difference. Buh.

Big hideous family meal tomorrow night. It�s not that I�m worried about it being awkward, because I�m pretty good in social situations, it�s just going to take a lot of energy and suppressing of difficult thoughts. I have a lot of stuff to do with the whole Ladyfriend situation that I should probably write down, but I�m going to wait until after the meal tomorrow night because it�s only fair.

Finally, a bit of domestic woe. I ran a bath tonight, and just as I got in noticed a huge terror monster spider on the wall opposite. And because my dad�s round at Ladyfriend�s tonight there was no one to remove it for me, so had to spend the entirety of my lovely bath tracking its every movement. And then a huge giant daddy-long-legs came crashing through the window causing carnage, so I had to literally run out of the room. And then I tried to sneak back in and squash it with my book, only for it to be too high up on the wall, so I threw the book, missed and succeeded in pissing it off enough to dive-bomb me. Ended up in the shower instead. Daddy-long-legs shouldn�t be allowed; they�re unnatural, pointless and just gross.

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