I've just recieved a letter from the hospital, informing me that the date for my consultation has been brought forward to December 8th.
How the fuck do these numpties expect me to cope with a hospital appointment on the 24th anniversary of John Lennon's death?
This is just another episode in what has been a cunt of a year for yours truly.
First of all I was expected to accompany my youngest daughter to her first day at school on August 16th, what were they thinking of? Don't they realise that it was the 27th anniversary of the death of Elvis Presley.
I was then expected to appear in court for shoplifting on the 7th of September. When the police found me hiding under the bed, they failed to take into account that it was the day Keith Moon had died and proceeded to beat me around the kidneys with their batons. The trial was rescheduled for the 18th but as we all know that was the day on which Jimi Hendrix popped his clogs
and I was simply too upset to attend.
I was sentenced to sixty days in prison but when I told them that I would be unable to complete the sentence as it overlapped with the anniversary of the death of Janis Joplin on the 4th of October, the judge saw sense and deferred the sentence for a psychiatric evaluation.
Some people eh?
fatty.