Like Frankensteins Monster...

I'm having to turn my whole body to look to either side due to my neck being totally fucked.

(Please note; Totally fucked is a recognized medical term. Honest, I once overheard heard a psychoanalyst say one of their patients was "Totally fucked.")

It's not the sharp stabs of pain that bother me the most, it's the fact that I keep forgetting my neck is screwed and I move my head or arm. I'm then gently reminded by my brain and I utter a curse word such as "Fuck" or "Shit" or "Buggeration." Which I'm sure isn't even a word, never mind a curse word. But, when you're in pain, you never bother about these kinds of things.

(I've came up with some brilliant curse words in the past whenever I've been in pain. The best one being a bastardisation of the, also made-up, word supercalifragalisticexpialidocious, which was "Super-cali-fuck-me-backwards-that-was-fucking-painful.")

What also bothers me is the fact that I can't have a satisfying wank. Sure, I can wank off using my left hand (Does that make me ambiwankerous?) but the effect isn't quite the same. My dick and my right hand live in a symbiotic world... They're perfect for each other.

I also can't clear my throat without pain shooting down my arm and up my neck. Which, as a smoker, is a fairly regular occurrence. For three days now my lungs have been gathering the mother of all phlegm-gems but I've not been able to shift the stubborn bastard from the top of my chest into an area where I can hack, hawk and howf it into the back of my throat and let it out to make its own way in the world.

And that's part of the fun of being a smoker. Sure there's the satisfaction garnered from being one of the chosen few who smoke but losing the ability to cough up part of your lungs and firing it into the nearest gutter at the least appropriate moment makes a smoker seem almost impotent. I want to remain a member of the last-bastions-of-cool club. I don't want to look like I'm not a heavy smoker. It's like wearing an Armani suit with a tie that has a picture of Donald Duck on it. It just ain't cool.

Of course, I could take the opportunity to stop smoking but why should I? And don't even begin to think "Because it'll kill you." I'm not gonna die because I chose to smoke. I'm gonna die because that's what always happens, and always will happen, to mortal beings. The body is only a shell anyway. But, lets not get all philosophical about that just now. I've got bigger things to think about.

Like... Where can I buy a large sized watermelon at this time of year so I can hollow a part out of it and wank with something more realistic than my left hand.