On the blink, off the wagon

I do use any old excuse, but those back sores, that’ve been getting me down recently, certainly got worse and worse during the week, so I’ve been pretty out of it on wine through it all. Standing up straight seems to be the only position that doesn’t hurt, which is difficult to do when you’re trying to sleep at 3 am. Today hasn’t been to bad though, so fingers crossed it’s a sign that whatever-it-is has begun to subside.

We shall see.

Oh and of course, during all of this, the TV in my lounge goes on the blink. The power LED comes on, but not the actual screen, which is the most important part. I have zero technical skills, even freaking out over a tin opener, so goodness knows what’s happened. I’ve never trusted it tbh, which isn’t a good sign. Every time I’ve switched it on sine it arrived I’ve half-expected it to die on me. I doubt I’ll be going with Panasonic again. I’m currently shopping for an LG model, as the older set in the bedroom, which is LG and now standing in for the prospective new one, still works. And the two standalone disc players. Saying that, the TV doesn’t quite support my PlayStation 5, so it’s hit-and-miss what I can use with it. I can manage GTA Online, but not Downwell, which is weird. You’d think the more minimalist game would thrive in such a situation, but no.

Perhaps there’s a display setting in there that works best, but I’ve yet to find it.

There’s a local electronics shop that I’ve started using, who will also remove my old model for me, so that’s something I won’t have to worry about. And I was. Navigating the three flights of stairs down to the ground floor is tricky at the best of times, so dragging a 48-inch TV down there was a grim prospect indeed. I wonder if they’ll take the packaging too. Hmm…

Still no word from my friend “Lesbo Lisa” or anyone else. Steady as she goes.

It’s cool enough to sleep under my sheets now, which is nice. I like to snuggle. Trying to find a position that works with my aching back is, of course, still tricky under there. I just wish there was somebody in my life to snuggle with. I managed two wanks before getting out of bed this morning, which was no doubt linked to my drinking. I get really horny hangovers, with my kinky fantasies providing an escape from the miserable DTs. Today’s fantasy involved me being a girl who picks up a few pretty boys from the gym in order to feverishly lick their sweaty parts.

That did the job!

The neighbours have been hit and miss regarding noise levels. “Obnoxious Camp Guy” is still screeching out his property at 2 am, which we can all do without. I think it was him who turned his home into a nightclub all day yesterday. He has plenty of gal-pals in the area, so you’d think at least one of them would advise him to keep things down a bit.

But no. 

I’ve put in a shopping order for delivery tomorrow, but I’m trying to keep it booze-free. I don’t think my heart can take another hangover. Just a few days rest and I’m sure I’ll be back on it. Or off it. Think I’ll just have a simple bowl of noddles for dinner tonight, as there isn’t much else in the kitchen. I’m sick of crappy takeaway junk, so I’m happy to wait until the shopping comes. I’m hoping there’ll be a cute delivery boy, which there was last time. He was quite camp too, although I didn’t try flirting with him. I’ve not got much to entice anyone these days.

I guess he could be into “daddy bears”, rather than fickle heartbreakers his won age.

I might try playing guitar at some point. Haven’t strummed at all during the heatwave. I’m sure even an acoustic guitar would have electrocuted me.

Well, I shall leave it there and bid you farewell.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

Wash and dry

Well, I’ve managed to stay off the bottle for a few days, but my torso sores have been making me feel hungover regardless. Needless to say, booze is on the way tomorrow. I’ve had enough. I say “torso” sores, as the pain seems to have spread through my chest cavity over to my front. It’s all still on the right-hand side, so I do not believe a heart attack is imminent.

The weather has cooled-off enough that existing is now a little more bearable. I’ve even had a few naps under my duvet today, which has been nice. I do enjoy snuggling, so the summer is a pretty miserable time for me. I even changed the sheets, as they’ve been on there far too long, thus surely a bacteria minefield. I’ve just been too ill this year to do such manual labour.

I’m sure everyone knows how much of a pain-in-the-bum it is to change bedsheets, so I shan’t go into detail.

I’ve just watched RLM’s new Best of the Worst video, which has cheered me up greatly. It’s good to laugh. It’s just a shame that laughing hurts at the moment. I also keep watching old episodes of MST3K, which I encourage everyone and anyone with depression to invest time in.

While not too hot, the sun is backing this side of my building right now and undermining what little eyesight I do have. I’m on the top floor of a block of flats, so I’m sure the sun’s more intense than if I was on the ground floor. A “ground floor” is the “first floor”, to any silly Americans reading. Bless ‘em!

No contact from anyone for days. My friend “Lesbo Lisa” hasn’t replied to my last text for a week, so I’m wondering if I’ve finally scared her off. I’ve managed it with everyone else I’ve ever met, so I guess it was only ever a matter of time.

I wrote my 7th erotic short story during the week, which is basically a compilation of smaller fantasies strung together with some socio-political musings. These smaller fantasies probably wouldn’t have been able to act as the centrepiece of their own stories, so that’s why I decided to lump them together. I’ve been continually adding to this 7th story since publishing it, but I’m pretty happy with it now.

That stalled other one still remains unfinished, so I guess it’ll have to be my 8th masturbatory epic!

I’m currently washing some towels and the previous set of sheets that were on my bed. Things really were starting to get stinky! I’ve just not felt particularly safe activating any appliances while the weather has been the way it is. That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it!

Food-wise, I made a pork curry from scratch yesterday, which was very spicy. I’m sure I’m a terrible cook, but at least I please myself. There’s a large portion leftover in the fridge, which I’ll consume tomorrow. Today I had a burger, but served it in garlic ciabatta, which made a nice change from the usual seeded bun. I shall have to do this combo again!

Oh I’ve still not rang the council about that broken window handle, but I’m coping without it. For now. I’ll try during the upcoming week.

Well, I best leave y’all to your crazy Saturday nights.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

A broken handle on things

Yet more hot weather blues, I’m afraid. We even got a wildfire alert from the government on our phones, as apparently they have control over them now. Bit creepy, that. I wonder how many accidents it caused, as it was very loud and unexpected. A simple text message would have sufficed.

The handle on my bathroom window broke yesterday, which had absolutely nothing to do with me slamming it hard due to “Obnoxious Camp Guy” making noise again. He gets bad in the evening, which is when you really could do with a bit of quiet. It must be a drink problem. I wonder why he’s at home all day everyday. My disability is my excuse, but he seems pretty mobile.

It’s best not to ask such questions around here.

I’ll call the council about the window tomorrow, as I assume they get a rush of repair calls on Mondays and Fridays. It’s not the biggest priority in the world, but I would like it sorted for winter.

Two kids were knocking on my door yesterday, as they’d found a key on the floor and were looking for its owner. It was weird, as something similar has happened before, only with a takeaway delivery driver. I don’t know why they can’t just leave the keys where they find them. The kids seemed to go to doors in the building at random too, which added strangeness to the event. I’m pretty sure I’m not imagining these things.

Hmm…

Those sores on my back are affecting my sleep now. I can’t lie down when they get bad, so I get up and start drinking. Nothing seems to help, so I’ve started to believe they’re now-standard diabetic infections. Usually they come in the form of pustule boils in sensitive areas (anywhere warm, dark, moist, and hairy), but this one is clearly a little different and has spread out over a larger area. I’m hoping it’s gone through the apex of its lifespan and will be losing its potency from now on.

I really, really, really hope.

I’m not sure whether I’m hungover or not right now. I’m teetering on the edge of either state. It feels disconcerting, but not insufferable. I’ve got a shopping order coming soon, which is mostly booze-based. I’ll have a bath after the driver has gone, then figure out whether to continue drinking. The heat does seem to be rising again, as do my back pains.

It’s just one thing after another keeping me in this alcoholic slump. Although I guess I use any old excuse really. You could surely create a drinking game based on my boozy behaviour.

Sigh.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles! 

A simple side salad

I believe we are now experiencing record-breaking levels of heat, which, as you can imagine, is not impressing me one bit. I’m sure some brainless bastards are loving it though. May there be a special hell for them and the inventor of the open-plan office.

While the mutt belonging to “Barking Dog Man” has mysteriously gone quiet, “Obnoxious Camp Guy” has replaced the former’s antisocial behaviour. And then some. Much like myself, he seems to be getting hammered almost every night of the week, but he’s not the gentle soul that I am. He clearly shouts every thought that enters his mind, rather than just pondering them quietly. I’d call and complain to the council, but a) I don’t know which property he’s in and b) the council won’t be able to do much more than politely ask him to keep the noise down.

I miss the good old days, when authorities had the power to force entry into your home and remove whatever it is you’re using to make noise. Including your fucking larynx.

I assume/hope other neighbours have complained, so I might see if I can jump onboard with those, even if I don’t know the exact address responsible. It’s now 0135 on a Thursday morning and I can still hear him yapping away. Maybe he’s swapped bodies with that dog, Freaky Friday-style!

I’ve started going through the Mysterious Cities of Gold boxset for the hundredth time. I need a lot of cosy nostalgia at this point in my life. I had such a crush on Esteban when I was little! I wanted to be Zia for him so bad. Oh well, I’m sure being a mentally ill, diabetic, disabled shut-in I’ll find an adult Esteban to cuddle eventually.

Or I’ll just die alone and won’t be found decomposing for about a year.

That national number has stopped trying to call me, so the stress is off there. If they want to know something, this is hardly the weather for me to do much soul searching. I can just about manage typing it here, but in person would be difficult.

I downloaded the PS Plus Monthly Games for August, but my eyesight made them impossible to play. That realisation was pretty grim, but becoming more and more common nowadays. I haven’t tried Dying Light 2 yet, as I assume a AAA game will overheat my console as GTA V does.

I had some shopping delivered yesterday, but I think I unintentionally offended the driver. He kept trying to help me unload items into my reusable bags, but I asked him to stop. I’m so clumsy that I might hurt him if he holds stuff out for me. His tone of voice implied I’d been too harsh, but the heat was making me so hot and bothered that being gentle wasn’t very easy.

Just leave me to it, especially if I’ve asked you once already.

I’ve had this laptop plugged in to charge for 5 minutes now, and I’m pretty sure I can fry some eggs on it. There, I’ve safely unplugged it. And the eggs are indeed delicious!

Just had some sushi and salad for “lunch”, although I wasn’t much in the mood for the sushi part. It had to be eaten asap though, as is required for fish products. The salad was really nice, hence the title of this post. I’ll try to be less alliterative for my next publication, I promise.

Not sure what to do with myself today. I might go lie down for a bit after this and have a wank. Think it’ll take a while to find a fantasy that gets me going. I’ve got a few solid ones on rotation at the moment. I still need to finish that erotic short story, but motivation and inspiration has been pretty lacking.

Well, I shall leave you all to your own personal hells.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

The loud lives of layabouts

The temperature is soaring again, even to that horrid point where I feel like I’m suffocating. Not nice. Plus, well, the hotter the weather the louder my neighbours get. Who knows what the connection is.

As predicted, the smart meter engineer couldn’t get into the electrics box downstairs again, so I’m still on my old key system. He was a nice chap, who I really felt like I could open up to. And he was only in my home for about 5 minutes. Maybe it was because I’m so attention-starved these days.

I’ve been drinking a lot, with brief periods of sobriety. Not sure what I’ll be doing today. I woke up for breakfast at 8 pm, so at least I’ll spend most of my waking hours in the cool of the night when everyone else on the street has gone to bed.

I’m getting hundreds of views a day over at The Whittling Post, but very few post-specific ones. So just “front page” views. Who knows whether they’re actual people or just AI bots scanning my hard work. At least it’s up from single digits, like here.

Been watching a YouTube channel where a Russian family film their daily goings on. The eldest son is very loud and abrasive, with absolutely no interest in keeping his camera still for one-damn-second, but the laconic father seems to understand the language of cinema. They appear to live in a beautiful detached mansion, including all the mod-cons, amidst lush, sprawling grounds. I thought everyone was poor over there! Just goes to show what b.s. propaganda we’re fed. Often, the eldest brother films his two little brothers doing back-breaking labour in the garden, with me wondering why the older one doesn’t just put his phone down and help out.

Perhaps the monetisation brings in some extra cash for the family to boost their meagre crabapple income.

The sores on my back persist, although I have purchased a couple of pain relief gels to try out. They appear to be working. The sores aren’t too bad today though, so maybe I won’t need to apply any.

That sense of dread persists too, but I’m sure that’s just the booze. There isn’t much on the horizon to stay sober for.

Somebody keeps trying to call me, but I’m not answering. It looks like a national number, so I’m guessing it’s the energy company trying to rearrange the smart meter installation. I’ll have a think about whether to bother picking up tomorrow.

Why can’t people just leave me alone?!

“The Whistler” downstairs has been relatively quiet. “Loud Phone Lady” next door has started shouting at her pet again, so I think she’s back on the bottle. “Obnoxious Camp Guy” is still making sure the street knows how obnoxious and camp he is (see video below). I think “Crazy Bin Lady” on the ground floor is one of his gal-pals, so she’s been over at his this evening cackling mindlessly at his crap.

Hmm, I wonder why I don’t have any friends.

I had a wank before getting up, as the pressure was stating to build. The longer I leave it the duller the orgasm, so it’s best to keep squirting as often as possible!

On a completely unrelated note, I’ve ran out of margarine so am using olive oil. I’ve got these flat, shallow, plate-sized bowls that I use for meals, but now I’m pouring the oil into one to soak toast in. It works really well, actually. Wondering whether to just do this for a while, rather than stocking up on spread.

Exciting stuff, huh?

Right, I best go soak my aching limbs in the tub. Filled with water, not olive oil! Although…

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

The waiting is the worst part

The booze has continued to flow since my last post, although it has officially stopped being fun. I’m definitely in.a grim headspace today. I’m not sure where my sleep pattern is now, as I went to bed at 2 pm yesterday and got up for my “morning” coffee around 11 pm. Perhaps more booze will correct it.

The smart meter installation is due to take place somewhere between 10 am and 2 pm later, which I hope goes painlessly. I still need to tidy up the kitchen, as there are empty beer cans covering much of one surface. And the top of the microwave. I’m not particularly “house proud”.

I’ll hold fire on the bottle until it’s all over. Think I’ll need to set up an account on the energy company’s app, so that’ll require sobriety. I’m a technophobe at the best of times.

Feeling a sense of dread, which I could really do without. Guess it’s the wine and cider. Managed a wank before I got out of bed though. Squirted all over my tummy. Today’s fantasy involved a teen lad going round to hang out with the boy-next-door. Things descend after they retire upstairs to the boy’s bedroom. His mum watches the kinky proceedings for a bit, until she decides that maybe three’s a crowd.

“The Whistler” downstairs is definitely still a free man, although he’s being mercifully quiet right now. I’m sure his ranting and raving and home trashing will proceed soon enough.

I’m not joking, he literally just started banging doors after I finished the above paragraph.

Good grief.

Those sores on my back persist, so they mustn’t be to do with my skin rubbing against the damp sheets in bed. Surely they would heal within 24 hours, if so. Hmm, this can’t be good. If it’s cancer, I just hope it takes me quickly. I haven’t got anything to fight for anymore.

The temperature has dropped enough that i’ve been able to shut windows, thus allowing me a bit of peace and quiet. Due to the constantly revolving community of tenants and the council’s need to prepare properties for new arrivals, the estate is like a building site most of the time. It’s best avoided if you have problems with anxiety, as I do.

Can’t imagine why I drink so much.

Had a cute new supermarket delivery driver yesterday. He has two kids of his own, so I didn’t bother trying to flirt. Not that I’m good at that sort of thing anyway. I usually come up with decent things to say long after they’re gone.

Well, I best go scrub off the filth and start tidying the kitchen.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!