Sexy dementia talk

My brain is stuck

Going to London to partake of nooclear medicines and MFI scans, the machines of which are operated by Doozers. 

I was trying to get a decent clip of Doozers, who are these tiny green people who are construction workers on Fraggle Rock who make buildings that the Fraggles eat, but all I could get was the musical numbers. Then I found this!

Suffice to say, the experience is akin to being rolled into a sarcophagus - with your head clamped still - often with gently appalling music playing (usually from Heart FM) and a lot of whirring, clanking, beeping and screeching noises. 

I think they put those in on purpose to make it sound more sci-fi.

It’s not that unpleasant; rather, slightly surreal.

As I type this, the cacophony of zero-boundary children in this beer garden is almost overwhelming. 

I blame their parents, who are - technically - cxxts.

Games stuff

I’ve been playing a 13 year old computer game called Skyrim, which was when it came out - a game-changer. Unfortunately the company who produced it then went into MMORPGs (online games with lots of other players) and the experience of those games was crap. 

Yes! Let’s exploit the brand!

They’ve since destroyed the Fallout franchise, and they are yet to follow up with a sequel to Skyrim.

13 years and waiting…

So I’m playing the game and enjoying it, but the same glitches in the program still exist. Chests swallowing your loot, NPCs floating in mid-air, and other nonsense.

It’s evident the company doesn’t care one iota about its undeservingly loyal fanbase.

I think I may just go back to books. It’s healthier anyway.

Autumn

It’s mid Autumn. I love the colours of the leaves, the cool weather; appreciate the shorter days and golden light, the anticipation of Christmas and the cosiness of dark evenings and log fires, with the smell of burning and the streaming of eyes. 

The leaves are yellow ochre and burnt umber, with a few reluctant deciduous examples holding out for the inevitable.

Talking today about Glüwein and mulled cider - those steaming hot drinks with cloves and cinnamon we drink while cupping the glass or mug with our fingerless mittens. Yum!

But we have had Xmas fare in the supermarkets since late summer. Come the New Year and Easter Eggs will be in the shops. 

He’s only just been birthed and they’re rolling the boulder away for his resurrection!

Similarly, no Guy Fawkes anymore, and that American festival of Halloween lasts for 6 weeks.

What's the world coming to when you can't even burn a Catholic once a year now for all the bloody trick or treaters?

If Thomas Carlyle had been alive today he would be burning down the supermarket aisles.

That London

Took the coach up to that London on Sunday morning. Walked past the old house in Kingston getting that happy/sad vibe. I called J to say I was outside and she said come on in.

Wilbur ran out to see me. He’s blind and deaf but gloriously fluffy and he knew me instantly as I haven't washed - as a protest - since I last saw him. He jumped up at me. It was lovely. 

We went through a lot, he and I. Gaming holidays, hundreds of hours sharing the same bed, walks, treats - especially cheese - like Wallace and Gromit, we were.

J and I had a lovely chat. Stanley was cool with me - he always has been, but I love him. 

I...love...dogs!!!

It was lovely seeing J too. We hadn't seen each other in person for a year. Time is....healing. 

The process continues.

I met Larry and Adrian and Chris at the Willoughby and we played some D&D using the 2024 rules which have just come out.

I stayed at my friend's in Wimbledon and had a second sleepless night. Why was I so stressed? It made no logical sense. I guess I was terrified of missing my appointments. 

I could feel it in my body but my brain was oblivious of the reason(s) thanks to good old Sertraline.

7.45: MRI at Queen Square was easy - nice lady called Mary looked after me, then I wandered around Bloomsbury and Soho in the grey London light. 

Wandering for ages in fact, conscious that I couldn't go to Ole and Stein for a cinnamon bun. 

Bought 2 pairs of jeans out of necessity, served by a stoned, and initially belligerent young man in Soho who warmed up through the transaction process. 

Just as well as another 2 pairs have exploded overnight.

I had to fast for 6 hours for the PET scan so I last ate at 7.30 am: half bottle of Huel which tasted disgusting and a flat white that was an offence against the Trades Description Act, and a snip at £4. My stress had made eating very difficult.

Fashion: baggy this, baggy that. Joe Bloggs-style jeans, sweaters, cardigans. It’s almost anti-fashion. Dressing for comfort?? What has become of london. I leave it for just a year and it’s already gone to the dogs. This is what they wear in Coxley. 

And soooo many quilted jackets! I tried one on but I looked like a child had coloured in a Michelin Man.

PET scan: lie down, put on eye mask to block out lights, needle in arm, cute nurse comes back and then puts the nuclear medicine in me. Wait another 25 minutes, then go to the PET scanner itself which only covers the head. I was only in it for 15 minutes. 

Done!

I wandered for an hour - having gone past the phase of hunger - knowing I needed a feast. Found one of those French bistros that cater for the theatre crowds. They’re normally very passable. Wolfed a burger and frites down, along with a very nice Meteor IPA. 

Then I went back to Hammersmith, went in 3 dodgy pubs. Last one had lots of ugly old people in heavy metal t-shirts. Must have been some concert or other on, or a heavy metallurgy expo nearby. 

Coach journey was easy - none of the charging ports worked of course.

Nerys was there to drive me home.

And...rest.