Thus ...

... it went: different anti biotics because the first set just didn't work. At all. Also: I got wrapped.

Apparently, and this is very hush-hush, tibetan monks invested months of language-barrier-complicated months into learning the doctor's assistents the ancient and true secret of Wrapping A Leg What Has Become Infected ... at least that's what the lady sort of suggested, not so much in word but glaringly in action. My girlfriend is not allowed to do the bandages because them's special ... very ... nah. So, I'm wrapped up, which is bad. It feels like being part of an hourglass. Whenever you stand on the leg everything just flows into the lower half and this hurts.

Rest of the day: WoW. Running around to get exploration achievements. It's ... a weird thing. It's like racing to get to your holiday destination ...

Woohoo!

I'm at home and I'm ill! It seems, public service anouncement by the way, that if you get hit in the shin often enough a weakness can occur which can be exploited by such opportunistic things as inflamations. In short: my leg is purple. My right lower leg. Fortunately I have a girlfriend who has had the unenviable task of getting me through some nice delirium, leg pain, headaches and hour long showers. Don't ask me why. It seemed right at the time.

I'm bad at being sick. My brain just gets into these horrible obsession moments about books and TV shows and it's just ugly. Trust me ...

Anyway. If things go right I'll be loads better today. Well ... I'm up, walking, have eaten a banana ... I'm doing just fine.

The doctor who checked out my leg pushed her thumb into the centre of the infection. Which, needless to say, hurt. Puh-lenty. You know what I did, indoctrinated as I am? I tapped out. I clapped my hands to signal to my 'opponent' that I 'gave up'. I feel sort of silly ...

New Shirt!

Yes ... I deviated from the normal one word and then dots approach for opening this message. This shirt came as a response to me being considered cynical by a large portion of the community. Even some parts of the community that I cared about. And parts of the community that had designs on my time, shall we say ...

It's a flat out denial of, well, the truth, basically. According to one interviewee I'm a limp and a medical degree away from not having a TV series ... because there already is one like that and starting another one with the same premise is actionable. Oh well ... but it's a cute shirt, right?

I ...

... recently saw a woman near the central station in Amsterdam who was trying to convince people to turn to religion. She was singing, or shouting, rather, and she was holding a little sign. Now, this sign was off. It admonished me to clean my sins ... So, since then I have taken out my sins and polished them and made them shine and I put them back on the shelf. They look lovely now. All silvery and good. I still think it was good advice. I just have to wonder what religion has to do with this ...

So ...

... apparantly, Damien Hirst's skull is coming to us.

Weird sentence. You'd expect him to accompany his skill with the rest of him ... but there you go. His skull is coming. Of the rest of him I know nothing. His skull is, of course, For The Love Of Gold, a platina skull inset with 8601 diamonds. It's a piece of art. It's supposedly is designed to tell us something about the nature of death, life, and the beauty of death and our fascination with it. Of course, it also manages to look like a rapper's bling dream ... but that is beside the point, I expect.

I have issues with the thing but I hope to go and see it for myself. The disturbing part is that the skull is modelled on an actual skull from the 18th century. So, evidently, it's not strictly a real skull. The teeth, however, are. And I have to wonder if an 18th century person would really be happy to have to teeth ripped from his skull and placed in this monstrosity. Maybe the person was religious and would dearly object, thinking that the second coming of Christ would be less fun if you could only partake of liquid food whilst waiting to get into heaven. It's a funny idea, but a serious point: you can't, in my opinion, take away a person's right to decide over his own body. I admit that after death all that becomes difficult in practice but then you should just go on common decency. You have to wonder what would happen if mr.Hirst had proposed to use a skull of someone who actually had living relatives. A victim of the 9/11 attacks, for instance. Or a nazi victim. I think the world would be too small for the noise. However, this skull has no family and no defenders and thus, he gets away with it ...

I feel mr.Hirst overstepped a boundary. I also suspect him of being a bit of a dick but I have no real evidence for that statement. It is, however, a nagging and constant feeling. Those turn out to be right a surprising amount of the time.

Oh ...

... I'm stupid. I should have shown our bunny. Because it's cute!

Also: this photo shows how bunnies can really cut into your TV watching time, by being on your chest and being inquisitive and playful and shoving their ass into your view. And we still think they're cute so they trained us well, I have to say.

If ...

... I get more bored at work time will reverse itself and the hours will not draw by like years as they do now but NOT.

As it turns out it also sort of kills my ability to write decent funny stuff ... so this is a placeholder, basically. I shall think of something decent to write ....