9/9/15 06:02 pm - ok, ok - so when's the other shoe gonna fall?
- just been up to kendal on the 552, back down through milnthorpe to lancaster on the 555 (yes, i could've & would've gotten onto the 555 to lancaster, if they'd phoned me before i was ~halfway to kendal), up to the pointer (roundabout, so-called because there used, "once upon a time" ago°, to be a coaching inn, with appropriate hanging sign, plus associated, fairly complicatedly ornate, even though only three-and-a-bit-way signpost, the inn named, but both referred to indifferently as,"the pointer"), across over to the rli (the royal lancaster, iirc, infirmary), all-in-all a one hundred and ninety-five minute bus journey with only break waiting for the 555 southbound in kendal, followed by about half an hour's waiting, to experience having yet another hole punctured in one arm, and cannula inserted, my torso & both arms strapped to a hinged, semi-articulated metal plate or "bed", all fniggers, both hands & one arm sent numb, ear-plugs inserted willy-nilly for me into both ears, headphones playing a somewhat distorted, and somewhat muffled inane radio presenter waffling mostly unintellegibly, sometimes indulging in apparently inane banter, and twice being forced by goodness-knows-who - or what - to concede to some regulatory authority's rules, and actually play (more likely, cease twittering, and allow the producer or a beeb sound technician to play) some uninspired single, my bum & pelvic area warmed up very expensively, and some, any or all of my electrons, protons and/or neutrons in the middle of my anatomy to be induced to spin in some, not entirely naturally chosen, direction and/or manner, for half an hour or so, during which time i was twice asked something (i think), not necessarily the same thing, and to which i made the reply that i couldn't tell what i was being asked, or told, as i'd had ear-plugs inserted into my ears, and someone was playing this radio programme over the headphones that'd been installed on top of these; wherafter i was somewhat brusquely instructed to sit up, so the head-phones and -plugs could be removed - which instruction required the removal of said headphones, to be intelligible - to get dressed (i'd been required to remove my outer lower-torso wear, after being required to empty any and all pockets, and to divest myself of my papermate pen, lest the metal parts therein suffer hysterical heating), and remove myself and my property asap - there was a definite froideur, when i insisted upon fastening my feetwear - being given technically-accurate-but-misleadingtechnically-accurate-but-misleading instructions on finding the exit/entrance to the rli - after which, i could make my own way wheresoever i desired, and found myself capable, which proved to be a five minute bus ride up the hill to bowerham, and a five minute walk up the hill to roger's (he was out), followed by a five minute walk back down the hill, a ten minute wait for the bus to lancaster bus station, a ten minute wait for the 55a to carnfroth, where i sat down to a decaf-coffee-with-cocoa-sprinkles at booths, where i'm writing this.
° - within ppint.ish memory°°
°° - yes, still, thank-you kindly sundry commontaters°°°
°°° - (str - it's an old joke, and was no better then...
pp.s. - oh, yes: and one of them would appear to have pinched my papermate refillable roller-pen :-(