Tag Archives: milk

Milklaria

I am ill, again, for the second time in a few weeks. This absolutely will not do. Stupid body, letting me down like an absolute bastard. It used to be really good at keeping infections away, but it seems the ravages of age have taken its ability to battle off those tiny, angry spaceships or whatever they were on that slightly weird French cartoon from my childhood were.

But I think this might be more serious than any of us imagined. For you see, I was bitten by a host of mosquitoes on Friday thanks to the combination of being in the forest, having shorts on, it being warm and it having been a wet summer. Bastard mozzies love that shit.

So I was bitten multiple times, leaving me with itchy welts all over my legs and arms.

It’s clearly malaria.

And so I’ve done what any rational human being does: checked Yahoo Answers for the solution to my malaria problem. Turns out I’m not the only one who suffers from British malaria, with one other user offering me some sound advice: don’t drink milk, as it will kill you (if you have malaria).

Unfortunately, as is my diet, I have consumed a fair bit of milk today. As such, I am clearly on my way out and not long for this mortal coil. I always thought milk would off me in some way, but I never expected it to have to team up with blood-borne parasites to get its way.

I shouldn’t have just looked up malarial symptoms. I’m worried now. Especially seeing as all illness has headaches involved.

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The unforgivable mistake

I’m not sure how lazy this makes me, but on returning home yesterday I arrived back to a flat in a state I simply do not experience these days. Never before in the enlightened age has it come to this, yet here I was – living proof that the times I thought I had left behind me were, in fact, not at all left behind me.

No, not the piles of rubbish all over the floor. They add to the ambience of the place. And not the tons of crap everywhere either. We’ve already established I’m a terrible hoarder and that I have more stuff than I do room.

No, this was something altogether worse. This was… I find it hard to even say it. It’s embarrassing. It’s sickening.

I was out of milk.

I’m sorry. I am.

But on returning and seeing this – this thing that hadn’t happened for years until today – I had to act quickly, decisively and simply: turn around, go back out of the house, walk to the shop, buy some milk. I did not do that.

I can make all the excuses I want: I was tired from travelling; I had just taken my shoes off; I was on the beer anyway. But none of them will ever make up for the fact that, for the last 36 hours or however long I’ve been back, I have been without milk.

Fortunately, I’m now getting the tea and coffee cravings to such a degree that I have to leave the house. If I look like a smackhead looking for his next fix, you’ll know why.

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Every silver lining has a cloud

There was huge news today that you might not be aware of. After a long run, after helping contribute to sleepless nights for a number of people, after offering ethical standards of a different level to what you would expect, it’s gone. It’s over. It’s done.

Yes, this afternoon, completely out of the blue and with nothing in the way of forewarning, I ran out of organic skimmed milk. I have nothing to put in my coffee as of right now, just when I need a super caffeine boost the most, and just when I can’t be bothered drinking black coffee.

I say it was out of the blue, and it was – I thought it had so much more to give, I hoped it would stick around for longer so I could see how far it could go in light of recent events (i.e. it being opened and sitting in a fridge for a week). But it turns out I’d pushed it too far this time – and this afternoon it turned out I had indeed broken the horse’s back.

And run out of milk.

There was a strange feeling of elation after I found out about the news, as if it was in some way a personal victory. But soon enough that fell by the wayside and my usual calm cynicism took over, reminding me that it being gone was not actually as good a thing as I first thought. In fact, it’s probably not a good thing at all – at least that’s what I realised on further inspection of the situation.

I’m sure something will be sorted from all of this, though I’m not hopeful it’ll be a complete solution to all the problems faced. I mean, I can replace it with more, different milk, but won’t that just remind me of the milk that pushed it too far? Will I ever be able to trust it again? Will advertisers be willing to sponsor what might be regarded as a poisoned chalice?

Wait, what the hell was that last bit about? I LITERALLY HAVE NO IDEA.

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I’m well organical, me

This was meant to be done yesterday – I was too drunk and tired to do it though. APPLE LOOGIES.

I’ve just made a startling realisation – of my last 12 pints of milk, all 12 pints of them have been of the organic variety. Also I just bought an organic, free-range chicken. From Waitrose. What the hell has happened to me?

Putting aside (vast) monetary concerns – these things are more expensive than non-organic and non-free-range, after all, and ignoring the fact that Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall and his stupid name were telling me to BUY ORGANIC, YOU PLEB a while back… oh, and Jamie Oliver too. And his fat tongue. Anyway, ignoring all those mitigating factors I have little idea why this has transpired.

I do give a shit about some animals, but I’m both very selective and something of a hypocrite when it comes to animal welfare and the well-being of creatures. Especially those bred entirely for the purpose of being eaten. Safe to say, PETA probably wouldn’t have me on their books at any point in the near future.

No, this is probably a combination of a sub-conscious reaction to one thing and a rather conscious reaction to another. The former is likely my brain remembering the stories about the quality of non-organic produce and how it, as they say, is ‘full of shit’. Often literally. There was an article on the Grauniad about it a while back that even made my normally iron-constitution look a little bit rusty and weakened. Absorbed faecal matter – nom.

The more conscious reason has to be awarded to my darling girlfriend, whose constant badgering (organic badgering, of course) has actually had an effect. After all, I am but a spineless pleb, incapable of standing up for myself.

But sod it, organic stuff is less evil, and contrary to popular belief I don’t like being evil. I am officially an organic twat.

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Can’t (be bothered) cook(ing), won’t (bother) cook(ing)

I am astoundingly lazy, to the point where – when I actually think about it – I surprise myself. I mean, for the last few weeks I haven’t eaten a great deal while at home. No food in the house has been a reason for this in the past, but I do have food. No, I just can’t be bothered cooking anything. And by “cooking” I mean “making some pasta go into its edible state then dousing it in some pre-made sauce”. I even have fresh produce that’s gone… less fresh… as I just couldn’t be bothered using it up.

Have I gone mental? Can someone with some kind of degree in brainology tell me what’s wrong? I am hungry, but I’m not ‘oweeee it hurrrrts’ starving, but I just can’t be bothered. It doesn’t seem worth the effort, somehow.

Maybe I should just get a massive stock of Pot Noodle-like snack food things, as I always boil the kettle for tea and coffee so… wait – it just dawned on me. I have no milk, therefore I have no way of making tea (also I ran out of coffee so it eliminates the black option). This means I have nothing pushing me to constantly return to the kitchen, and I in fact feel like going to the kitchen would bring back too many painful memories of the fact I have no milk, thus meaning I am avoiding the kitchen because I have no milk.

And avoiding the kitchen means I will make no food. It’s so simple when you think about it out loud. Nope, definitely nothing wrong with me in my head – it’s all because of a lack of milk. SORTED.

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