The papers.
I had my appendix out a few years ago and while in the ward there was this old guy in the corner bed you gave me the fucking rage.
He would constantly interrupt conversations with stuff like "Are you talking to me?! Who are you?! Who's that?!" etc etc, I just figured he was a doddery old git who shat the bed twice while I was there.
The morning after my op and I was laying in bed bored to tears. A young girl from the shop came in selling papers so I bought one and got myself comfortable. She then headed to the guy in the corner and every so nicely asked "Would you like to buy a paper my dear?"
"No thanks" came the reply... "Wouldn't do me any good, I'm blind".
Well, fuck me, there's no fear like that you feel when you're trying so hard not to laugh that you're terrified you're going to burst your stitches.
I covered my face with the paper and shook silently with laughter, slipping down the bed a bit and leaving myself in agony. It was worth it though.
The young lass just made a quick exit while I writhed in pain/pleasure.
( Maffers I flow kinda strange like Spina Bifida footprints, Fri 25 Dec 2009, 20:18, Reply)