Tuesday, 13 March 2007

Still Infected

Why is it that those organising social functions believe that their quality is measured in how far they exceed legal decibel levels? As if you can only have a good time if you not only can't hear what others are saying, but can't even tell that you're shouting except for the fact that your throat hurts.
When i got back, my ears were ringing. Loudly. Or I thought they were, until I left the room and it stopped. Damn stupid heating system.

I'm in a frustrated mood - my darling pooter is still infected with greeks in a wooden box. I've acquired a smorgasbord of anti-viral software, since my last attempt was insufficient. Hopefully, if I use them all at once, one of them will prove to be a magic bullet (but not two, because then they might cancel out eachother, or realise their bargaining power, form a union, and go on strike).

You may think this is irrelevant to your life, but the fact is, if some vestige of the bastiddy thing survives all that medication, we'll have a mutated, immune strain on our hands (like M.R.S.A.), and we'll all be doomed. A.T.M.s will start dispensing I.O.U.s; television channels will run nothing but reruns of Neighbours, and the world as we know it will be over.

No comments: