Fight Club: Weapons of Mass Destruction

We've got two weapons of mass destruction in this country. They are called Cameron and Clegg. In two weeks the joke of a coalition government will be no more-and the people of this country will be heaving a sigh of relief. Those of us with functioning brains will probably just be heaving.

I have had so much junk mail through my door-and so have my friends-and everyone else-that I am surprised there is a single tree left in this country. Do I read any of it? Of course not. I just exercise my right arm by chucking it all into the bin. Actually, nobody I know reads any of it, either. All those trees - destroyed for nothing.

So here is the update on the general election-where we get rid of two idiots and gain another idiot. And people being people (lazy and stupid) will probably keep Cameron. Cameron. The man who has no ideals, and no agenda-except to be elected. He goes with the wind; he has no policies of his own. Enough people complain about the NHS and he promises to keep it-and fix it. He's the reason the NHS is imploding in the first place!! He put us all into deep doodoo-and refuses to take responsibility for totally screwing up the economy. Sounds like a typical politician: as long as he is still breathing, he is lying. I wonder if he lies in his sleep.

Then there is Clegg, the deputy prime loser. He opens his mouth only long enough to change feet.
Next there is Ed Miliband, the man who actually does make a lot of sense (talks issues, not just how to slag off the opposition). Too bad he has the charisma of a cowpat.  And there is Nigel Farage.

Nigel Farage deserves his own paragraph. He is head of UKIP, and against- well, just about everything. The tabloids are fond of ripping him apart, and slagging him off as much as they can. Of course, they're the tabloids: they never heard of reporting the news. God help you if they don't like you. Farage has decided-in his infinite wisdom (of which he has none)- to reverse the ban on smoking in pubs. Now-he's so desperate he is going after the votes of all the smokers who haven't died of lung cancer. He will probably also go after the votes of all the drinkers who haven't died of cirrhosis of the liver, too. The ban on smoking in pubs, clubs and restaurants is the best thing anyone could possibly do. It's common knowledge that smoking is related to lung cancer. Everyone knows this-but people keep smoking. Are they masochistic? Suicidal? Or just plain stupid ('scuse me, we know the answer to that one!). I think that if people want to kill themselves by smoking, that is their choice. But I draw the line at people smoking around me, because secondhand smoke kills. It is even more dangerous than smoking itself. So-Farage is an ass. If people want to smoke, or set themselves on fire, or spontaneously combust, fine. Just don't do it around me. Line drawn. Like I said-Farage is an ass.

Next there are the Greens. Sadly, the Green Party won't get their candidate elected unless everyone else dies. We live in hope.

For the next two weeks I am keeping my head down, not getting involved in any discussions, and, frankly, I don't give a rat's patootie, because I don't think it will make the slightest bit of difference who gets in. One pile of crap is the same as another pile of crap. I think we should elect a chimpanzee. Then we would be in with a fighting chance. On polling day-May 7th- I will be sitting in front of the television, watching the box set of Breaking Bad, with plenty of Kettle Chips to keep me company...

And for the good news, which I saved until last. On Monday I went to Queen Square to see Dr. Davies, the neurologist who is the foremost vestibular specialist in this country. Davies had me do another test, one which I took in 2011, and I failed miserably. So I retook it. It involves standing on a platform-in a harness, so I don't fall over and crack my head open-and there are three walls, one in front of me and one on either side. They all move. And I do mean move-I felt like I was standing on a wobble board. I got through the first five tests, and it wasn't so bad-but the last two were murder. I had to stand with my eyes closed, and try not to fall over. I did really badly on those two.

Davies showed me the graphs after the tests; she also showed me the graphs from 2011. In these four years I have gone from 34% to a whopping 58%. It has taken me five years of very hard work, but I could look at the graphs and see progress. Davies said that she feels that I will get more balance back. As long as it takes, guys, as long as it takes. If Davies had said-forget it-I would have been depressed, but I would have still kept going. She said that my strength and determination-and obstinacy-are what got me this far, and that I need to keep fighting, and keep doing the exercises. I  return in six months, and I will be retested. So we will see. I nearly wept. I skipped out of the hospital-well, I nearly skipped out. I'm working on that.

The graphs are pinned up on my wall, so that when I get depressed because I don't think I am getting better quickly enough I can look at the wall and know. I might get there when I'm 100, but I will still get there.

That is it for now. Time for Kettle Chips (in celebration, of course). And a nice large Mojito. Then I'm set for the evening. After all, that's one from every food group.