Tuesday 16 November 2010

¡Vete A Tomar Por Culo Guillain–Barré!

You don't have to read this post if you don't want to. It's not particularly pleasant reading, nor is it very coherent, but I really feel like fucking breaking something right now and yelling at the internet is probably the safer option. I am in such a poxy mood. I've got fucking unpleasant GB damage issues right now, I can't fucking eat without tears pouring out of my eyes, or fucking dribbling, talking isn't too fucking easy either, I can't smile, and I can feel the dead fucking nerves and inactive muscles as a useless absence and I fucking hate it. Loathe it with a passion you wouldn't fucking believe, because when this happens it just stops me dead in my tracks because I'm constantly aware of it, I just cannot fucking ignore it, the pain, the numbness, the effort involved in actions that are normally unconscious, involuntary, just fucks me up when it kicks in like this and makes me want to withdraw. And I really don't fucking want to feel that urge anymore, especially now I've conquered that particular demon in practically every other sphere of my life.

Sorry. I'm alright, just seriously fucked off with this shit*, it just gets really, really fucking boring after a while. I'm going to listen to the Melvins** at appalling volume (again). That always helps. As does shouting my head off on here. The next post will be more fun, I promise.

*And some other shit***, but mainly this shit.

**The finest fucking band America has produced in the last 30 years, bar fucking none. Prove me wrong...

***To be honest, the other shit is more confusing than anything, but it's not exactly helping either. Then again, I'm probably tying myself in either imaginary or unnecessary knots, possibly because I feel like shit because of the above. O joyous fucking circle of fun...

8 comments:

  1. That sucks about the GB.

    Somebody very close to me deals with MS...treatments are pretty good for that though.

    I truly hate it for you...you'll just have to take it out on the gi'tar later.

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  2. "**The finest fucking band America has produced in the last 30 years, bar fucking none. Prove me wrong..."

    How 'bout Flipper?

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  3. I can't imagine the frustration but I can promise a dribbling-you is better for the world than an absent-you, Doctor.

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  4. Thank you, both of you, like I say I'm ok, just astoundingly pissed-off. The problem with GB is that the initial treatment either kills you or starts yr recovery, but after that, aside from physio, there is no treatment really. Thank fuck for good hash, because THC is about the only thing that really damps down the pain to an appreciable degree. But what really helps is good people, and in that respect I am damn lucky.

    Spliffe, have no fear, I'm going nowhere, as I said before I like my life now (apart from the obvious), and I'll be fucked if I'm giving in to this crap, but sometimes I just need to scream.

    And e.f., I really feel for yr friend with MS, even though our conditions have very different symptoms, weirdly the cause of said symptoms is almost identical. Weird huh?

    And yeah, I love Flipper to death, and maybe if they'd not ended up more interested in the needle than the music then that sentence could well have read very differently. I love that moment where Flipper, No Trend, Blight etc said fuck this fast shit, lets slow it down and fuck with peoples heads. It's odd, but I hear the influence of those bands, Flipper particularly, in more bands over here than in the US, never been able to work that one out... And yeah, the guitar is gonna get it later.

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  5. It is strange that their basically the same thing, but attack different parts of the nervous system.

    With MS the treatments basically distract the immune system with something else to attack...why this can't work for the periphial I don't know. Maybe the pain level would be the same.

    Speaking of attacks on the nervous system...where does Big Black rate?

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  6. Big Black rates about an 8, Atomizer kills, Songs About Fucking is an old romantic favourite, but it's Racer X that always really nails it for me. First gig I ever saw at the tender age of 14 was their last ever gig at the Clarendon in Hammersmith, as immortalised on the Pigpile LP/video/.

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  7. Bear in mind tho, that my brainfuck scale is logarithmic, so my 9 is 10x nastier than an 8. And if BB are 8, then Skullflower, Ramleh and Whitehouse et al are 9-9.5 and I ain't never heard a 10 yet...

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  8. Despite some great songs (and covers)...there's a sense of calculation that seeps through sometimes.

    It was like Albini's math equation for what a band should be.

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