You could probably tell by the nature of the last post that I’m almost completely over my injury. It’s a strange one, and I’m glad to see the back of it. There was one song that got me through the early part of the week: it’s meaningful lyrics mixed with it’s bouncy poppy tune struck a chord with me. I was tempted to do an emo “This song is how I feel” lyrics post, but there was one fundamental part of Meridith Brooks’ “Bitch” that obviously doesn’t relate to yours truly.
Whilst I was at the pinnacle of my pain, I set myself a challenge: define “pain”. Seriously, all of us probably have different levels of pain tolerances (I for one think I’m very high. I do moan about it, but I rarely take any pain medication), so how do we know when we are in unbearable pain, that we should go to the doctors, for example? He’d could just laugh at us. I mean, what’s a dull pain? Dull pain to me is the feeling whereby you’ve just been kneed in the bollocks, but still feel it, but the initial pain/humiliation is over. I’d think I’d simultaneously become a rich man and solve the problems on the NHS if I could come up with a device that could detect levels of pain, to decipher between levels 1 (“Snap Out of it”), 2 (“Take a Paracetamol then snap out of it”), 3 (“Go to your docs, then snap out of it”), 4 (“Ring 999, go to hospital, survive, then snap out of it”) and 5 (“Snap out of it. By ‘it’ I mean life”).
At the moment, I’m not 100%. I have a feeling though that one massive fart that Guy would probably record and MMS his mates with would sort all my problems. That will hopefully come sometime in work today, or better yet on the underground this afternoon, or better yet with Han. Scratch that, if I fart in Han’s room I’ll be sleeping in the corridor, and – knowing my farts – so will Han.
Righty ho, you could probably tell I’m off to see Han this weekend. Check out my forum if you’re bored, you can also read yesterday’s post and interview, and those who still want to enter the fantasy 6 nations have until 5pm GMT tonight to enter. I’m scared I’ve got far too many Welshmen in my team, and not enough Irish. We shall see though. Have a good weekend!
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Comments: 7 Comments
Rhys Wynne, the author of this blog, is a 20 something web designer from Colwyn Bay. 
you’d better get it out of the way quick. cos you ain’t coming near me!
Or Rhys, you could ask Tilesey for romantics ways on how to share your farts. His favourite is while his girlfriend/female companion has her head on his lap…
Seriously, all of us probably have different levels of pain tolerances (I for one think I’m very high. I do moan about it, but I rarely take any pain medication)
I can’t believe no-one has yet said “bollocks” to this yet…
I call bullshit on this
P.S. I was in pain once, so instead of being in pain I was awesome. True story.
Thats quite funny.
That is exactly what I thought Sibz.
I’m certain Mum would agree as well.
Well as long as you don’t do what they do on “romantic comedies”, that is, fart, then pull the blanket up over sled and loved one’s head…
I meant to say “self and loved one’s head” not…SLED! Sheesh, time for my medicine…
Sonja that’s known as a Dutch Oven (i’m not sure why)
and at the right time can be hilarious