tooth soup

Today was actually rather pleasant. Despite waking up with a head full of cotton wool, and a nose like a faucet leaking tar, I managed to wobble to the shower and relieve my head of its burden of dead cells without so much as a sniffle. I think the double hit of Nurofen and Panadol is doing the trick. The guys in the terminal room at uni (incidentally, ‘terminal’ in this case does not borrow its name from anything to do with death, it just means there’s a lot of terminals, computers, in there) all recoiled in horror upon seeing me walk into the room looking like a Grim Reaper. They’ve all just gotten over their own respective colds, flus and coughs, so me walking in, like a person arriving late to a funeral with a big grin on his face, elicited a general barricading of office space against the space invaders flying from my nose.

Strangely enough though, I managed to get more work done today than the previous two days. This may be because I had the first coffee that I’ve had for quite a while, so I buzzed for about four hours. Perfectly timed on the end of that buzz was Andrew calling me to help him push some mulch around his place for his rent inspection tomorrow. We grabbed a 50kg bag from Bunnings and then proceeded to sit at his place and swap music while it pissed down outside. Eventually I grabbed an umbrella and ran to the car, drove home, and played God of War 2.

Some people have condemned that game for being too graphic, too bloody. This is completely true. It revels in its gore. You will see more limbs fly, more heads tumble, and more legs broken in this game than any other. But until you see a man jump onto the back of a gryphon, rip its wings off, stick a knife through its chest, and throw it to the distant Earth, you cannot condemn it.

And off I go.

_{The tangled threads roiled and hissed like the snakes of Medusa as they approached.}

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