Wednesday, 27 May 2009

STANISLAV, AN OUTPATIENT SPEAKS

Go down local hospital today for laser surgery, on old mince pies, Fuck me, gently. Not hurt a bit says eyebloke. Cunt. Not hurt him a bit but is like some bastard hammer hot nails in stanislav eyeball, fucking dreadful. Is OK? says eyebloke; No, is not OK, is fucking murder, is on special extra fucking hot setting, eh? ten million volts? best leave off for a minute. Have had laser surgery before, few time, and never hurt like this bastard, is exfuckingcrutiating.

Edinburgh Royal College of Surgeon-Extorionists says that doctor working in Highland and Island is often alcoholic, drug addict or misfit; this bloke look like all three bastards. Scotland is best part of England and can see doctor very easy, is just that is maybe crap and dangerous; dirty, drunken mentalcase with hand shaking and bad breath full of garlic, often has huge beard and hair everywhere, like fucking Hobbit and would sooner cut own throat than wash hands between patient. Anyway, to start off with, eyebloke puts stanislav head in iron mask and is damning and fucking because nothing works, turns out he has the lens in the wrong way round; good job, says stanislav, it didn’t fucking work, else you’d a had laser in your eyes, innit, and serve you right. Maybe was wrong thing to say.

Anyway stanislav not want to be seen as ladyman or wuss but after few seconds is in agony, can’t see and both eye is streaming and head is exploding. Can do Zen shit, meditation and self-hypnosis, just sort of empty mind of Now and tranceout, feel no pain, or little pain, but not with this bastard. Have you got much more to do, maybe can put up with if nearly finished is? You've had 56 shots. And how many is more to come? Is a thousand altogether. Oh fuck me, nine hundred and forty four more bastard nails hammer in fucking eyeball, fuck that shit, can't put up with, is like some bastard set fire to inside of head and bombs going off in eyeballs, sweat like fucking Paddy Fawkes in confession box with noncing monsignor, another nine hundred will vomiting be and shit pants like demented old bastard on Tory backbench caught with fingers in till and cock in rentboy. Fuck it, can go blind and get dog, like Blunkett, Buster is dear old friend and best boy but is crap for walking about with, does great tripping-up even when stanislav can see, and even if didn't trip up and smash face on pavement would pull arm from socket in pursuit of other dogblokes. Can be blind plumber, stanislavplumbcheap4u in Braille. Anyway get money off government if blind is. Not fucking much, not as much as Mr and Mrs Balls or Mr Duncan, but is few quid and can always tune piano for living.

Have had blind piano bloke come in gaff and tune-up Joanna. Is all horrible miserablest fucking bastard ever – this piano, Sir, is very out of tune. They all say that, like was crime against disabled bastards. Yes, is out of tune, that’s why stanislav sent for you in first place, you pianobloke is, if stanislav could tune piano, you wouldn’t be here, innit, can do most thing, but tune piano is job for blind bloke with fuck all else to do but listen, innit, is shit job, is only fit for blindbloke with special listening skills, so maybe it just SEEMS so out of tune because you is listening like a bastard and to me is just fucking out of tune, I mean, it doesn’t matter if is one note out of tune or eighty-fucking-eight out of tune, is same difference, piano sounds like shit, only takes is one note and whole thing is fucked, unless of course piece of music doesn’t have that one note in, which it might not, if was Three Blind - no offence – Mice, but can’t sit and play Three Blind Mice forever and ever, people come round for dinner and you say Oh Fuck me, guests, I’ll just play you Three Blind Mice, a few times, like last time, pretty soon run out of dinner guests, who wants to come and hear Three Blind Fucking Mice, year after year, and here in Scotland can only really invite expatriots because Jock is savage and no fucking manners has got and would smash gaff up if only was Three Blind Mice by way of post-prandial diverissement, so really either piano is in tune or is not in fucking tune, can’t be very in tune and so can’t be very out of tune either, and, matey, have had hard day with head down toilet so not fucking me about be anymore with this Piano Is Very Out Of Tune Shit, like was Blind Boy Monty Python and Parrot, only piano instead; have got topjolly Yamaha keyboard and never go out of fucking tune and sound more like piano than piano. Have got Yamaha acoustic guitar and Yamaha electric guitar, is like fucking Yamaha factory, could have fucking Nipponese orchestra in here and don’t fucking care if you tune piano or not, is only affectation, acoustic piano, Yamaha is much better. Don’t need all this shit, got plenty of shit without bad-tempered accusatory pianobloke coming in here and giving me more shit. Do you wanna tune out of tune piano, like it says in Yellow Pages or have you come round here to bully people? What is it with you blind fuckers? ‘snot my fault. Try to give you some work to do and is better than weaving fucking basket and only can whine about piano out of tune being, as though stanislav took front off from Joanna and twist all the tuning pegs with fucking molegrip just to piss you off ? Honest, not invent, is true conversation.

No, mate, don’t care if you is doctor or not, stanislav is not coward, has had loads of this shit before and is OK, sting a little bit and eyes water but this fucking torture is, you from MI fucking 5? Can take laser and shove-up arse of BMA, is fucking rubbish, come in NHS to get rid of fucking pain, not get fucking torture to death, can go on waterboarding vacation in Cuba and is not so fucking bad as this shit, can smell fucking eyeballs burning.

You done this before ? Oh yes, am consultant, if is hurting you like fuck I can give you local anaesthetic. You mean needle in fucking eyeball, innit, is not good day for stanislav, nearly have eyes blown out through back of fucking head and now is fucking get eyeball stuck with hypodermic syringe, like in fucking nightmare, you know how Jack Nicholson says I Would Rather Stick Pins In My Eyes Than whatever it is? Well stanslav has had pins stuck in eye, or needle, which is same thing, only worse, and is shit thing to have, can't even, obviously, close fucking eyes and hope for best because is looking straight at needle coming towards eye in shaking hand of drunken misfit dope-fiend called Sandy or fucking Angus. Want local anaesthetic and carry on scorching eyeball ? No fucking thank you very fucking much. Got enough doctorshit with mad bastard wants to stop heart and rip to pieces and patch up like fucking inner-tube on bicycle, scar down front like Grand fucking Canyon and is only little bit of angina and can live fine with few pills and just as long as poor eviscerated surgery victim and probably longer and don't want some fucking eejit sticking needles in my eyeball, today.

Hooligan-Sadist doctor not apologise, Fuck me, no, not say Just relax, be better soon, was pissed off, bureaucratisation of NHS has no room for individual, hyper-sensitised patient and says stanislav can go in day clinic, fly to big hospital, still get needle in eyeball but can do it in more caring environment than grubby little office, and lasershots won't hurt so much, is only pain and fuck all compared to what Afghani Wedding guest gets from Uncle Sam, but he is wog, innit, and doesn't matter, stanislav can go in bed afterwards with nice cup of tea and Jock nurse, big like elephant, keep check on observations and say There-There, Hen, There-There. Scotland, best part of England.

19 comments:

Rightwinggit said...

I've got a Yammy keyboard and guitar....mind you, this being England, mine weren't stolen.

(That should get the stilsons flying)

call me ishmael said...
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The Dyer's Garden said...

Could we have these in audio? Could be recorded on the treadmill, catching up on the exercise the doctor no doubt also prescribed.

Daisy said...

I know it's rude to laugh, Mr Ishmael, at the misfortunes of your Polish lodger, but that was fucking hilarious.

I needed it, having just come from reading Mrs Dale defending that poor, unfortunate "young woman", Mrs MacKay.

call me ishmael said...
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Daisy said...

Was that a cry of pain? An enigmatic comment?

Talking of enigmata, I must confess, Mr Ishmael, to having an insatiable curiosity. I know, I know, killed the cat and all that, but one thing I have always wondered about you is what you did before your apparent retirement. Not the done thing to ask, I know, not quite in keeping with the proper blogger etiquette and all that, but I thought it might amuse you to know you are a constant source of wonder and some considerable irritation.

At various times I have had you down as a lawyer, a surgeon, a university don, an ageing rock star and a journalist, to name but a few. I'm sure this curiosity is shared by a number of your other fans, who probably have better manners than to mention it.

I suppose a clue would be out of the question?

The Dyer's Garden said...

No wonder, pushing up, that your etiquette has lapsed, if you've spent any time at Mrs Dale's. Her cardie has so many holes in it, incineration, together with its contents, is the only thing for it.

Swiss Bob said...

Ms Daisy,

I can tell you that he definitely, never, ever worked in IT and that's about all.

Except, don't ever advise him on the appropriate glue for a particular job. He's a glue expert.

Hope this helps.

lilith said...

Oh Ow! I hope you wrote this on your feedback form, Stan.

call me ishmael said...

Dear Mr Ms Daisy

Have said many times that without readers there would be no writing; bypassing editors and publishers many but by no means all online are just happpy to be read, uncomfortable with the idea of followers or fans and would prefer the term friends. It's a shared blues, from the psalms of King David to the tunes of Blind Willie McTell, there's nothing but the Blues; in stanislavia you laugh to keep from crying, that's all; I'm glad you like it, I like it, too.



ps the aaa was a misprint

call me ishmael said...

Yo, lilith Just you tell that malingerer bloke of yours how he inspired me to spill the beans. And the tears. Shoulder is pish, nailbombs in the eyesocket, that's tribulatiin for you.

Verge said...

a misprint? say it aint so. I was sure it was a nanohaiku on the subject of sovereign default.

Rightwinggit said...

Message for Stanislav.

My Yamaha guitar is a Super Flighter SF700 in mint condition from the late 70's/early 80's.

It plays better than any SG.

He'll be trimming pipes to length with his teeth when he reads this.

call me ishmael said...
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call me ishmael said...

aaaa

A concerned neighbour said...

You sound well - give my love to Bunty!

black hole sunset said...

Words from stan make world clearer, organise thoughts, highlight rough edges, flaws, imaginary trains, pizza bestowers. Stan, outsider, inside looks and sees insiders looking everywhere except at their predicament.

Fresh perspective from stan, discard new rubbish, gimmicks, collect, instead, trusty work-hardened tools used by plumbers of old. Not glitzy, not turn up in new van, turn up, instead, with practiced eye for troublesome pumbing job.

Take scene in at a glance, stan, "mr sunset, you use newspaper for bogroll and now little room no good is for thinking ... newspaper, and newswords, stick to shit, and ideas, make terrible blockage in bog, and mind ... stan fix bog cheap4u and get emergency roll from van, part of service, not use newspaper, newswords, for bog, mind, only good for starting fire is newspaper, newswords is good for fuck all ...".

Little room now better than ever, for thinking, and stan say many things about plumbing business, much to contemplate.

No logo on van, but did see very small, home made, sticker in back window as he drive away, 20 pound notes between teeth, reading "Up against the wall, motherfuckers"

Is homage, this, not try to take away, copy, make forgery.

Is friend to perspectives, ideas, words of stan.

Elby the Beserk said...

Enough with the eyeballs. That's Scotland for you, Stan. We do things differently down here. As for IT, I served 25 years in the IT galleys, and haven't missed it a bit. They made me redundant just at the time I had come to the conclusion I had to walk or go nuts. Bless 'em. Boss was a midget and me two metres didn't help. But. Enough with the eyeballs, Stan :-)

a jock doc said...

Brilliant just brilliant!