A great start to a new year. Not.
Still can't stand up without wobbling.
Been in bed most of the day, trying not to cough, because that's ouchy.
Just got a call to say there's an alarm going at work... Could I get there at warp speed because it may be another sprinkler's thawed and gone bang.
But I had to reply that I can't drive in this condition, so it's somebody else's problem... or at least, until they phone me again to ask how to shut it off. I'll do my best. But concentrating is difficult.
Pardon me whilst I drink some more cough medicine.
Last night I composed a witty blog post in my head, all about me greeting all my readers west of the atlantic, from the future, Because I was in 2011, whilst you were stuck in last year. I was going to tell you all about the future, flying cars, house robots.
I was going to tell you how facebook, twitter, skype... all are now old hat, we use telepathy these days. But the system still overloads. See, an individual like me, or you, has limited range. so, to reach greater distances, we use nodes to retransmit. It seems that there is a point to emo and goth kids after all. All that monochrome seems to do something. Or maybe it's the gloom, or the vampirism . Or the bits of metal they have randomly inserted in body parts. Well, whatever the reason, they seem to work as natural telepathic amplifiers, for the most part without harm or awareness. They can't read the messages passed through them, nor feel them, unless perhaps their piercings buzz a little.
Certain piercings, the nature of which both makes me wince, and blush to contemplate, have rocketed in popularity amongst the black-clad hordes.
The problem is the overloads. See, when a node overloads umm. you might want to skip this bit... When a node overloads. the host's cranium starts to shake, quiver, oscillate, blur... and then K-BOOOM!!!, they explode. Very messy.
Last night, midnight, I attempted to make a cellphone call to America. The cell network was overloaded, no chance.
Outside, the flashes, whizzes, bangs, all started up as rockets shot toward the sky, marking the new year. Except there were a lot of hollow, echoey kabooms too many. And as I looked out of my window, I saw exploding goths. They're done for, can't even come back as zombies, because the brains are gone.
I'd have gone out with emergency tinfoil beanies to save them, but too dangerous, far too dangerous, because of the zombies, roaming the neighbourhood, licking brain-spatter off the roadway, the lamp-posts, and walls. I suppose we should have predicted this tragedy, knowing how other systems overload at new year. Still, look on the bright side, some zombies get caught in the explosions.
That blogpost had a short shelf-life, and I missed it.
Happy New Year!