Five Things You Probably Didn't Want To Know About Me

Righty ho, I seem to have been tagged by Adrian with a 'Five Things We Didn't Know About You' meme that is running through my blogging acquaintances like a dose of clap through a budget brothel. So despite having already posted two times in the last two days, I find myself saddling up for a third.

1.The Educational:
I collect Victorian home medical encyclopaedias. These books give a fascinating insight into not so ancient social history and stupendous scientific arrogance. 'Household Remedies For Man And Beast' contains advice on curing common colds and broken bones, how to make your own white-wash and a remedy for sweaty canaries. Dr Kellogg (inventor of the Cornflake, and founder of the cereal company) spends over 40 pages describing how to identify female practitioners of The Solitary Vice and warns most strongly of the physical, intellectual and spiritual damage caused by This Most Pernicious Habit; all without ever stating what an act of 'Self Pollution' actually entails. Parents beware: biting of nails, indolence, sullenness and the eating of coal are all evidence that your daughter is most certainly succumbing to Manual Venereal Debauchment, and Moral Bankruptcy and Delinquency will follow as sure as Day Follows Night, so act now!

2.The Emotional
Despite being a hardened cynic with all the empathy and emotional attachment of a barnacle whelk, I can not watch the end of Batteries Not Included without shedding a tear.

3.The Psychological
I have an extreme and passionate hatred and fear of pelicans. When I was three I became briefly separated from my family in St. James' Park. The resident pelicans seeing me fall behind rallied in attack. I was savagely bitten and almost devoured whole by one of these evil avian monsters. Had my father not lifted me to safety in the nick of time I would not be here to write this. The collective noun for pelicans is a Filth.
This picture was taken just before the vicious and unprovoked attack.

4.The Medical
When I was but twelve years old I developed a dull pain down there. Being at that awkward kind of age I kept this to myself for nearly a week, before explaining to my parents why I was walking funny. The next day I was at the doctor's for an examination. After a quick cup and a cough and a couple of questions he suggested we should pop along to the local hospital for a further check, he told me not to worry, and that the hospital would be expecting us. I was asked if I'd eaten that day, when I said no, I was scheduled for an operation that afternoon. Before I had the chance to be worried or afraid or panic-stricken I was on a ward, in bed, surrounded by screens with a pretty young nurse shaving my clock-weights. This was probably the most emotionally complex moment of my life. I hadn't even had the chance to use the damn things, and they were going to do who knows what! Some hours later and minus my epididymal appendices I came round from general anaesthetic feeling rather sick. I then had to wear a scrotal support for two weeks – a strange kind of string net bag with a hole to let your man-thing out and a belt to take the weight of my not-so-hairy-now saddlebags. It all itched like hell as my nutsack returned to its former hirsute self. Oh, The anguish! Oh, The Torment! Oh, The memory of that nurse!

5.The Physical
I used to have hair.














Then: Brooding young rock God.      Now:Needs help.


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