Week Five and Six

Well faithful readers and bored net junkies, you may have noticed that there was no post last week. This was due to me being a bit lazy, but mostly it was down to me thinking I would have to cancel the fight due to my ribs.
Last week was a total write off. Did fuck all training, mostly just ate drugs from the hot pharmacy chick. I reached the stage last week where I would take any drug, no matter how dangerous, if I thought there would be any benefit. Now, those who know me longest may realise that I reached that stage years ago, if you substitute the word buzz for benefit. But that was the old me. Now it's all clean living. Honest...... Suckers.
Well, if last week was a write off, then this week was a right on. Mickey moused around a bit Monday morning, gave the ribs a bit of a twang, but for some unknown reason the pain was mostly gone by Tuesday afternoon and I hit the ground running. Both literally and figuratively. So fight prep is back on track and I'm set to knock this fuckers lights out. Getting better has really got me out of the funk I was in. Who'd have thought I'd want to fight so bad? Well, my counsellor obviously, and all those kids I bullied in school, but who else?
So, other news, let's see. Went to a very cool bar in town last week. Got a bit of a shock when a behemoth came over to talk to me, then noticed it was just a woman who had never seen the bottom of a salad bowl in her life. Honest to god. Venus, in a blond wig with lipstick smeared in the appropriate places. That's the planet Venus, mind you.
"Fancy a bucket?", she asked. I had to get her to repeat it a few times, just to be sure I wasn't agreeing to something I would later regret. Yes, definitely a bucket. "What's that?", why it's like a normal drink, but it's served in a bucket with a load of straws. I get the idea, but seriously love, a bucket? Any consumable item that is served in a bucket lends a certain amount of bad publicity to the consumer. Now if that consumer looks like she never met a chocolatey dessert she didn't like...Basically, a bucket is the very last stage before they are serving you in a trough. You fat bitch. You fat, fat bitch.
Then on our way home we thought about writing a series of travel guides for the, *ahem* modern gentleman. It will not be like other travel guides that tell you about the history of the place, and the things to see before they are spoiled by tourism. Oh no. It will basically be a list of all the steakhouses and brothels. We are going to call it: 'Desperately Lonely Planet.'