I’m Still Here

Some bastard must have found the pile of cash under my mattress, because the docs have decided to squeeze some more funds outta me, along with a few more pints of blood, not a bad exchange for copious amounts of pain to be inflicted. I should be grateful, right? Well thats what Dickhead says. He reckons if it was him, he wouldnt whinge at all about how much pain he was in, how sick he was, how tired he felt, he’d be too grateful that there was a chance he could be fixed. Which is a pretty big statement for him to make, seeing as he is never satisfied & happy unless he has something to whinge about.

For some bizzare reason, this past couple of days treatment has really taken it out of me. Im knackered. Absolutely fucked.

Not long to go now.

ETA on last treatment:      who the fuck knows

Bugalugs’ Birthday:             3 sleeps

End of stupidity:                  5 sleeps

Hugs from Dickhead:           5+ sleeps

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