Domesticated Condiments

THE CHILI CON CARNE WAS OK, except for the windy diarrhoea I gave myself by undercooking (slightly) the red kidney beans. This despite following all instructions to the letter and obeying minimum boil time limits...

So I was thurping and trumpeting away all night, then I woke up in a shower of pure lights of unbeing (so to speak) and decided to clean my house all anew. It is now shining like the operating theatre on ET's intergalactic spacecraft.

Oh and as for condiments: I'd run out by this morning. No black pepper even. So irritatedly I whizzed round the supermarket, having to ask the old grannies who worked there (at least the ones who looked like they spoke English) where's black pepper? where's vinegar? mayo? Atora (dumpling suet)? etc etc and a shower of other items that make plain food more bearable. Then shelled out about £3.80 on nothing.

I had to go to a drugs clinic appointment. I don't know why, but I hate these more and more every time. Next visit is to the Chief Head Shrinker and I'm trembling in trepidation. Maple Syrup my worker reassured me it's ten minutes of blabber and he's not interested whether or not I'm barking mad.

As I "intimated" previously I'm terrified of being labelled bipolar, having had something like a nervous breakdown every single time I've made even a halfhearted effort at detoxing. One of these lovely, fun times seemingly met the DSM IV criteria (as used by American Headshrinkers) for a mixed mania-depression episode. No wonder I felt so lovely throughout that experience.

Trotter Donkey says hi to everybody. She bit me and ran off yesterday then MC Carrot Nose glared at me from under the porch of the chewed-out Cadbury's Chocolate Fingers emporium in which they sleep... Their water bottle ran out a couple of days ago and I couldn't find tape to restick it. Which meant having to hold up said bottle as robos emerged like furry hippos to gluckle away at said bottle two-at-once, which always looks entertaining. When "Baby" Itchy was alive they used to drink three at once in a Furry Trinity, which looked ever so sweet... Only this time they totally ignored said watery condiment until I bothered to call them and then two gremlinous racoon faces appeared. They stared and stared up at me as I continued to talk rubbish. Which I found dead flattering. Then Bashful bit me and scurried off ...