Friday, November 25, 2011

Fortuitous Fridays: Robert the Ravaged

Another abysmal attack of alliteration? Yes, yes indeed.

So it's Friday, once again, and to be honest it couldn't come fast enough this week. Due to a slight problem with my last paycheck (I spent it all) money has been tight this week. Also complicating matters is that She Who Will Be Named Later decided to re-arrange the front of our Nissan by slamming it against the rear-end of someone elses car. This means (among other things) she was unable to leave town to teach horsie lessons to overprivlidged, outer-city youth and so, funds have suffered further.

No one was hurt, thankfully, and the vehicle can be repaired, so the whole incident has been downgraded from 'disaster' to 'inconvenience' in life's scale of unexpected happenings. The tightening of the proverbial belts has made the week seem longer because of the fact that I haven't been able to buy any alcohol. None. Not a drop has passed my lips (except for a swig from the vodka I keep in the back of the toilet cistern) in days. Like a recently neutered dog, I have been wandering around, listless and bored, wondering: "Where's my testicles?". Testicles, in this case, of course, being booze.

I realize that saying that may make me look like an alcoholic but I assure you it's only because I am. A high-functioning, job-holding, responsible one, but one none-the-less. I assume everyone is a social alcoholic (except for real alcoholics who are just alcoholics) so I have no problem with it. I have, in the course of my life, given up many addictions (smoking, not, like heroin, or sex with chickens, or sex with chickens while on heroin) and vices (compulsive, not really), so it will be a cold, cold day in hell before you can pry the (empty) bottle of booze from my lifeless fingers. As Winston Churchill said:

I have before me an ordeal of the most grievous kind. I have had many, many long days of struggle and of suffering. You ask, what is my policy? I will say: It is to drink, by sea, land, and air, with all my might and with all the booze that God can give me... You ask, what is my aim? I can answer in one word: Intoxication.
I will then, be cracking open the piggy banks and buying the finest (cheapest) wine that I can and enjoying a glass or two this evening whilst living the true American Dream: shooting Russian's (on the WoT test server 7.1 which is now out). There is only so much one man can take and if I have to seek comfort from the wisdoms of the monks from Buckfast be it.

It's as classy as this picture makes it out to be

I posted last week about the Ich infestation in my loach tank (which only infected the loaches, ironically enough) and how I was down to a single loach (George) who had been stuck in the handle of an ornament for days. That very day, after coming home from The Flour Mill, I encountered a bad-news-good-news type situation. It had been a few days since the last fish died and none of the others showed any signs of the dreaded Ich. I was ready to proclaim my victory over this terrible parasite! I pumped my four-coated fist in the air, triumphant and smug.

And then he appeared. I actually stared in disbelief and at first thought that it was a reflection off the glass from George, but no. It was Robert the Ragged, a second clown loach, swimming about. I have no idea where he had hidden, but he disappeared 6 days previously. I was convinced he was dead and spent a considerable amount of time pulling my tank apart and trolling the sand for his body for fear it would pollute the water. Nothing. He had vanished.

He wasn't looking good, let me tell you. In fact, he was pretty fucked up. Emaciated, ragged, and covered in Ich but yet active and, importantly eating. I was happy that he was alive, but it meant, of course, that the Ich wasn't gone... and still isn't. Robert, George, and the other fish are all well but he is still carrying the bloody parasite which means water-changes and medications every two days in an attempt to prevent another massive outbreak. My patience is truly being tested. It's almost more than a (sober) man can stand, but we shall soon remedy that my friends! Oh yes, soon......

Stolen from here.

Happy Friday Everyone!

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