Wednesday, April 1, 2009
track 4 probe
WAP 5.
ab•scess |ˌabsɪs| |-sɛs|
noun
a swollen area within body tissue, containing an accumulation of pus.
ORIGIN mid 16th cent.: from Latin abscessus ‘a going away,’ from the verb abscedere, from ab- ‘away from’ + cedere ‘go,’ referring to the elimination of infected matter via the pus.
Hmmm. I seem to have developed an abscess.
My doctor has prescribed a short course of antibiotics - a penicillin blitzkrieg - but I fear a more invasive approach may ultimately be required. An excision. A sharpening of knives.
This, of course, only goes some way to justifying my escalating reluctance to adhere to the discipline of 24 hour posting; the everyday chore of scratching an irascible itch.
I have been listening to a lot of James Brown and Curtis Mayfield of late, as previous posts suggest. I potter about rather aimlessly between gulping down 500mg gelatin capsules as inviting as horse tranquilizers, and mixing effervescing cocktails of Jaap's Health Salts and Berocca infusions (like something named after a character in the arcade fighting game, "Mortal Kombat") to alleviate the resulting heartburn and general sense of feeling a little under the weather. I enjoyed the respite of a minor operation on the NHS involving the removal of a Pilinoidal Sinus several years ago; that was a pain in the ass too, but not so lamentably close to the bone. Just this morning an attractive young female doctor prodded at me - with what I perceived to be quite understandable reluctance - as I sprawled, legs akimbo, on an examining table; a paper sheet arranged ridiculously over my genitals. A more exhibitionistic personality may well have enjoyed the experience. As it was, I felt bad enough for the two of us.
I can think of nothing in my record collection which neatly wraps up the situation. If, indeed, there is something quietly lurking there, I don't wish to dwell on it. Or labour the point. This is as close to having my ankles up in stirrups as I ever want to go, quite frankly.
To quote an old chestnut: "For god's sake, nurse, I said prick his boil!"
Other than that, dear siblings, things are suitably swell.
▼ LFO: LFO (LEEDS WAREHOUSE MIX) from "LFO b/w Track 4 Probe (The Cuba Edit)" 12" (W.A.R.P. Records) 1990 (UK)
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7 comments:
Jaap's Health Salts & Berocca infusions sound like remedies prescribed by Dr. Benway. You said pain in the ass & genitals, are you sure the abscess isn't really a candiru?
(just thought I'd try cheering you up)
So you are on the Berocca?
"You on a really good day" eh?
The day a candiru pops its head out either orifice to say hello is the day I wake up screaming!
As for the Berocca; no signs yet of "living on the ceiling"...
Did you enjoy the Dr. Benway track?
There's no obnoxious bunchapunkers named PUS?
Hadn't heard this previously, Nate. Very cinematic; so much so, in fact, it prompted me to dig out a selection from a soundtrack for today's post. Nice.
PUS. There should be, Beer. There very possibly has.
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