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Missy

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My GP gave my a fascinating insight into my liver today - particularly fascinating as I walked in complaining of insomnia and not really wanting a cure for functional alcoholism. My blood test showed that I had been drinking in the recent vicinity of the test - which I as much as told to people in the chat room the night before, so that was hardly surprising. The bad news was that I was secreting an enzyme that said I was drinking too much. The good news was that there was no indication that I have liver damage, despite said enzyme.

So I've been told to have 1-2 cans a night as both minimum and maximum intake so as not to go cold turkey/have fits. I will be given a "jelly scan" of my liver at a hospital in a few weeks to confirm there's no issue (free of charge - God bless the NHS) and have been recommended that I take vitamin B supplements (perscriptions DO actually cost money [damn you NHS]), which will mean I'm going to have more Marmite sandwiches in future.

In short, apparently not drinking will help me sleep better when, paradoxically, I have been drinking in order to get to sleep. Health confuses me...

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Not when you've seceded from the country.

Be careful Ian, as a natural midlandsier you're not biologically suited to the Live Slow Die Pissed lifestyle of the Newcastlian native. Stay safe bro.

I would like to add, despite my snide comment, that I hope you're alright Mr Wilson, and at least they are checking on it now, rather than waiting to see if the enzymes caused any irrevocable damage.

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As a functioning alcoholic myself, I choose to ignore any warnings for myself from Ian's story, wish him the best of luck and post a story about my wife's cat:

Now, I like my wife's cat. If pressed, I'll readily admit I'm partial to our small dog, but the cat is fine. By and large, I like him for two reasons 1.) My wife has had him for nine years, longer than she's had me, so I just kind of have to deal with him, and 2.) By cat standards, he's wonderful. He acts like a dog, comes when he's called, responds to the word, "treat," and is very cuddly. He even manages to only vomit on tile, rather than carpet. So, for me, a dog person, this cat is totally cool. Now, I mentioned that Michelle has had Oskar for the better part of a decade, at this point, it's important to mention that he was no kitten when Michelle took him from the animal shelter. We don't know exactly how old Oskar is, but we know he's old. So, obviously, one of my bigger fears is this cat... ...dying on my watch. Not because I'm particularly adverse to death, (I grew up on a farm, after all, circle of life, all that rubbish), but because the emotional impact on my family would be severe.

Michelle leaves for work at 6:30 AM, by 8:30, I'm ready to go snag some groceries, since it's my day off. Oskar likes to lay in front of one of the heat registers in the dining room, which is also the pathway to the garage. So, as I'm getting my shoes, I call his name. He'd normally respond, but continues to lie motionless.

...Nothing.

I say it again.

...Still nothing.

"Oh, fuck," I think to myself, "He's really gone this time." I reach down and gently touch his cheek. I'm greeted with ten pounds of claws, shrieking black fur and a minor heart attack.

Long story short, he's fine, but a very heavy sleeper.

...Asshole.

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Most Sundays Chris and myself go over my old housemates and play games, and every week this ancient brain dead thing that I suppose was once a cat in the same way that Gollum was once a something like a Hobbit greets us with its same raucous mewling. It's name is Cassie and if you imagine an advert for how awesome and graceful and loving cats are then he is the exact opposite of that, providing regular unwelcome surprises on every surface it can get near and executing a near magooishly suicidal sense of self preservation. And he won't die. They've had him nearly ten years now and he wasn't young when they got him. Even they hate him now but the kids love him so he has to stay.

Needless to say after seven years with Cassie, I do not like cats.

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When I went to live with Wendee, she came not only with a lovable derp of a dog named Gimli, but also there is a cat. Willie is, by her reckoning, nine years old, has just graduated to Old Fart Cat Food, and is, to put it succinctly, a dick. Almost every day is an exercise in cleaning vomit. He will scream at me to feed him while he still has a mouthful of whatever I just fed him. One time he stared at me hatefully for five solid minutes before opening his mouth and unleashing a torrent of sick all over a comic box, never breaking eye contact.

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Man, my old girl Sugar can be a bitch at 12, but she's doing a hell of a lot better than your boys' cats. :P Yes, she'll occasionally passive agressively knead me in the middle of the night, and throw up all over the couches and bed and forget to use the litter box once in a blue moon, but she's usually asleep, and still lets herself be petted and such.

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Handed in my notice yesterday. Don't know what my future will hold but odds are it will be less 12-14 hour days and significantly less stress, or at least satisfaction from the stress. My decision was prompted by my grey hairs multiplying from two to four and the fact that I'll be 30 in July. Also I hate my job.

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I'm randomly looking at stuff on ebay that I cannot afford. While reading a description, I come across this:

All in all this is a solid reader or run filler until that perfect "Fabio" like copy comes along. This one is more like the post Goose-in-the-face Fabio: still nice, but just not the same.

I don't really care about the item, but I want to bid just because of that.

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The CW edits JLU episodes to the point of incoherence. Watching Dead Reckoning today was painful. They took out the part where Dead Man takes control of Batman's body so Dead Man has remorse for no reason. At the end Lex is just suddenly the head of Legion of Doom and Grodd has disappeared... Also every time Tala says "baby" is dubbed over with her moaning. :facepalm:

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Only a little.

I'll probably have it by the time C2E2 comes around.

Also, for planning purposes, I'm going to be bringing a handle of Kraken rum and something else (another handle of something, or a six pack). I'll also have an electric kettle on hand, if anyone needs to warm anything up.

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