It’s been a busy month, this little olde month of May. It started with my birthday, which was very nice. I didn’t do much, which is what I wanted. I did however eat and drink lots of the food and drinks that I shouldn’t. I was going to take this to the line. We gained a new King and bank holiday, I spoke to some peeps about prostate cancer, a group of professors have nothing better to do then come out with some nonsense reports, I got some new tattoos, finished a college course and the month will end with me being irradiated like a pack of dried fruit. Oh and a little announcement.
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I had an appointment at Guys hospital to discuss my increasing PSA. The last count was 0.15 and at 0.20 I would need to start the dreaded radiotherapy and all the fun that entails. A few days before it was changed to a telephone appointment as those wonderful train drivers were going on strike again. This time around I got a surprise call from the elusive Mr Cathcart himself. It was short and sweet. My PSA was now 0.16 and unless I specifically wanted to pull the rip cord early, we would leave the radiotherapy until we reached that magical bonus number. I asked him what he thought, and he said it’s something we want to leave as long as possible. That was fine by me, nothing good ever came of pulling that ripcord early other that a swift gust of wind guiding you back up into the aeroplane’s propellers.Read More »
It’s been one of them months of ups and downs.
Most of the up’s have been fantastic. The new job is fantastic, I am happy, content and I am appreciated. I am running 5km, non-stop, three times a week in under 30 minutes, just me and the manky foxes at 5am. I have lost weight. I had taken a gamble with crypto and made an unbelievable 4000% return on a small investment. Yes, King you can even get in and take piece of the happy pie. Look at you, looking your best since the de-prostrating.
You beautiful, impressive brute, you.Read More »
I was minding my business working when I got a call from an old friend, who I am going to call Osman. Now Osman was one of my groomsmen at my wedding, so we go back a while and are good friends, we always have a laugh and I always remind him how he is punching above his weight with his lovely wife. Now, having not heard from Osman for a while I smiled at seeing his name on the phones display.
Unfortunately, it all went downhill, rather rapidily from there.
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