Smelly bastards. And British Rail

OK, so it's not called British Rail any more, but for once I will have something nice to say about them. But that's to come. First, I am celebrating.

Why am I celebrating? Because today was the first time in two weeks that I had a shower. The past fortnight has been a melange of sponge baths, unsatisfying hairwashes, flannel wipes and on one memorable occasion it rained while I was at the bus stop.

I won't say it was easy, because it quite patently wasn't. It was like trying to organise one of those 'cross the river with a plank and an oil-drum' exercises, only with special-ed kids. I utilised every piece of furniture in the bathroom, some things from out of the bathroom and, ingeniously, a piece of rope. It paid off, I'm clean and also feel like a new person, albeit one with a mangy leg.

Yesterday was return-to-France day. On Monday I had my staples removed - an experience that everyone I spoke to said was easy, far easier than having stitches removed. As a result, I know I never want to have stitches. It sucked really badly - and it sucked really badly 25 times - I recommend against any form of surgery now purely on this basis.

However, I had the immense fun of travelling from Fleet to Paris on public transport with no flying and one leg. Entertaining, yes. Fun, no. The good thing was SouthWest Trains and the Eurostars' "Mong Service", which involved collecting me from every arrival point; driving me around in a groovy little golf-buggy affair and dropping me at the next point (all the while carrying my luggage for me). In fairness the only bad part about the journey was the pain of sitting down for hours on end. That and the fact that they didn't tell me the Eurostar terminal was no smoking until I had got in there and sat down 2 hours before my train.

I eventually got home, and am now a true Parisian intellectual - I will be sitting here for a few weeks now sharing my useless thoughts with the world, drinking wine and doing no real work. Bliss.

Ugly

Quick post, but I thought I'd put up a pic of my leg.

Not good as low definition camera phone but you get an idea of my bruising and 25+ metal staples.

Clicky for the squeamish

Quarantine

So I'm back in the world of the living now that Operation Ribby is officially concluded.

And let me tell you - I have seen probably dozens of films in my lifetime that involved nurses, as I'm sure we all have. None of them were true. Except perhaps "Carry on Matron", which wasn't the first one I was thinking of before I went in.

Apart from that, and the horrendously invasive trauma that is hip surgery, it wasn't quite as bad as I would have expected. The food was acceptable, the nursing staff were pretty good (except for the lack of sexual relief I had primed my self for) and the general anaesthetic ruled.

I'll update you on some of the stuff in the near future, but at the moment most of my posts will be this sort of length as I can't sit still for too long because of the pain.

The first anecdote I shall give you is the night before I went into the hospital however. I went for a few beers with SilverSurfer and when I suggested we extend the evening to an all-night drink session he declined due to prior commitments. Fortunately he was hit with the comment "but what if I die on the operating table tomorrow" and stayed out for the duration. Most people would have just requested my stereo. Guess his is better than mine.

Long live the Pope

I was a day out, but unfortunately Pope JPII has died this evening.

I'm not a religious man, but he was a very good man who stood by his beliefs through thick and thin. A man like this will not easily be forgotten.

Papal Fool

Looks like today is the day then.

JP2 appears to be in a pretty bad state, aides say he is no longer able to shit in the woods without assistance. You'd think if he was the bridge between Man and God he could have held on a bit longer though.

Hopefully Robbie Coltrane will be next.

EDIT Couldn't be bothered to start a new post here. Seems like the Tube Girl saga continues unabated. After she spectacularly ended her hunger strike yesterday the row carries on. Doctors have declared her dead, but as far as I understand both the parents and Jeb Bush have petitioned the Supreme Court to allow her condition to be changed to alive.

This is now the second time I have used this joke on the Rib Shack and it shows no signs of ceasing to be funny. When Robopope shuffles off I will try it once more to complete the trifecta and then the joke will be offically retired.