Post by Eema Braazkumov on Jan 18, 2008 21:03:54 GMT
Oh goody. Here we go again. Eyes resolutely fixed on the ceiling. Not only am I thinking of England, I'm thinking of Wales, Scotland, the Isle of Wight... any landmass to take my mind off of Mr Metal Ducky. As he hoves into view, me, legs akimbo, I mumble something about how the weather has taken a turn for the worse, and isn't Spooks rather exciting at the moment.
Ah! Challenger... we have re-entry. The nurse spins the flywheel like a crazed Captain Pugwash steering his ship through a violent storm. My fixed grin falters slightly. 'Oooh!' exclaims the nurse, grinning. 'I've forgotten to grab a thingy'.
'What the bl**dy hell's a thingy?!!!!' my mind screams, as I lay there, double doors open to the elements. The nurses head pops into view again, wielding a miniature pipe cleaner like a maschete. 'Here we are!' she beams, all sweetness and light. Good lord. I'm being examined by Mary Bl**dy Poppins. 'You'll just feel a slight pressure' she tweets, and I swear I can hear birdsong, and see a cartoon fawn licking a kidney bowl clean in the background.
And so she 'does her thing' with the miniature pipe cleaner, rooting around like a demented road sweeper trying to catch an elusive autumn leaf. And then, she once again lets fly with the wheel of doom and the holy doors of the Temple of Me close gently, locking out any worshippers who were hoping to visit the altar. Mr Metal Ducky disappears, and while I mentally wish him every form of Metal Bird Flu going, I am proffered a box of tissues, making me feel like a teenager after her first grubby awkward sexual encounter.
Only three more years till the next one? I can't wait!
Ah! Challenger... we have re-entry. The nurse spins the flywheel like a crazed Captain Pugwash steering his ship through a violent storm. My fixed grin falters slightly. 'Oooh!' exclaims the nurse, grinning. 'I've forgotten to grab a thingy'.
'What the bl**dy hell's a thingy?!!!!' my mind screams, as I lay there, double doors open to the elements. The nurses head pops into view again, wielding a miniature pipe cleaner like a maschete. 'Here we are!' she beams, all sweetness and light. Good lord. I'm being examined by Mary Bl**dy Poppins. 'You'll just feel a slight pressure' she tweets, and I swear I can hear birdsong, and see a cartoon fawn licking a kidney bowl clean in the background.
And so she 'does her thing' with the miniature pipe cleaner, rooting around like a demented road sweeper trying to catch an elusive autumn leaf. And then, she once again lets fly with the wheel of doom and the holy doors of the Temple of Me close gently, locking out any worshippers who were hoping to visit the altar. Mr Metal Ducky disappears, and while I mentally wish him every form of Metal Bird Flu going, I am proffered a box of tissues, making me feel like a teenager after her first grubby awkward sexual encounter.
Only three more years till the next one? I can't wait!