Crispy when Wet

I DON'T QUITE know what the title means, but it is indeed what they like to call a "crisp" day here in London. In other words it's BLOODY FREEZING COLD with SUB-SIBERIAN TEMPERATURES. At least it feels that way. My electric fan heater has been belting it out 20 to the dozen. I don't care how much I'm wasting by using one of those things. At least I pay for electricity as I go (mostly on emergency) instead of getting stung by great overestimated British Gas bills every quarter!

I'm just going to have to drop the tiresome bipolar language. I'm not "hypomanic" I'm deliriously happy and isn't it great. I mean yes I'm a bit loud and disinhibited at times but no "racing throughts" or confusion or hallucinations. And I'm only as "grandiose" as I'm Meant To Be. O yeah and I'm losing a single hour of sleep, on average, under my usual minimum (ie I'm on 7 hours: usually I sleep 8-10) and yet that, annoyingly enough, scores me one point on some Mania Rating Scale I once googled up ~ when I scored a good 42 out of 50 (ish ~ I can't remember the bloody numbers now) you know when I went cuckoo last year.

I'm so shocked, offended and ashamed at bearing that nuttly label "schizophrenic" ~ even my GP talks about my "schizophrenia" and I cannot be bothered to tell her I actually suffer from what Emil Kraepelin called Manic-Depressive Insanity (well I do according to his book of the same name). Anyway: I'm so traumatized at having gone stark raving bonkers last year I'm starting to feel I need a brief spate of counselling sessions to get over it! How dreadful is that? The memory of the "disease" is worse than the actual thing!

I am reading the Andy Warhol Diaries. What a blast! He and I are cut from the same cloth: I'm obsessed by all that is fabulous and shallow too. Well I am 85% of the time. The other 15 I'm transcendently profound. Well I like to think so.

Ho hum I have to go. Not much else to say except if I don't get out of here soon I'll miss Downton Abbey!

This is how I know I have "manic-depressive insanity" because here's Andy Warhol in the terrifying grip of delirious psychotic mania just like mine ~ except his is far more florid. Watch closely:~~~~~~~~




Ey! I just did the Mania Scale again and I score 11! O! or maybe a 12. I love this kind of crap: reminds me of the type of nonsense you find in the women's magazines in dental surgeries etc...

♢  ♧  ♤ ◘ ♫☺ ♥ ♢  ♧  ♤ ◘ ♫☺ ♥ ♢  ♧  ♤ ◘ ♫☺ ♥ ♢  ♧  ♤ ◘ ♫☺ ♥ ♢  ♧  ♤ ◘ ♫☺ ♥ ♢  ♧  ♤ ◘ ♫☺ ♥ ♢  ♧  ♤ ◘ ♫

New Television Laughter Mockery

BINKY, my mentally challenged schizoaffective borderline personality friend, was laughing and laughing her head off when I told her all excitedly doing an "I'm going to piss my pants any moment!" voice about my gigantic new television. How big is it? she said. Twenty-one inches! Then she nearly pissed herself laughing so I said so how big is your telly then? And guess what it is FIFTY TWO INCHES. No wonder the screen looks blurry up close. And how come if it's HD it doesn't do the Freeview HD channels? That's a bloody rip-off. And it is capable of crisp visual production because when you change channels the bit that says "BBC1 ~ not in HD you fool!" is really nice and you can't see any dots in or around the perfectly smooth lettering.

But my TV has a really crisp picture all the time and I will not be laughed at!! It's the best kind of telly you can get, with a perfectly flat GLASS screen (so you can stub cigarettes out on Moira Stewart's face without danger of a permanent mark obscuring one's enjoyment of Downton Abbey at 9pm on Sunday night. But unlike a modern telly, which is like a picture in a frame, it has a GINORMOUS cathode ray back, meaning measured back to front it's deeper than it is wide. Anyway I love my telly. And I've got to go. Oh we laughed and laughed this morning/this afternoon/whenever. Then she said to me "say something really loud in a Scottish accent when you go out" this was to meet the drug dealer for her but I'm not using any (seriously). So I did the only

Scottish voice I am capable of, which sounds like a nest full of baby eagles with Jimmy Krankie squarks being molested by a psychiatrically disturbed jackal. Very excitable indeed.

Here is Jimmy Krankie's Susan Boyle impression.

O yeah and I forgot to end the story. A very flustered Australian member of staff (in the halfway nuthouse where Binky lives) was down by the front door saying what's wrong what's wrong. Thinking a giant argument had broken out. Ukh.

And anyway ~ back in the 80s 21" used to be as big as tellies ever got!



Jimmy Krankie back in the 80s at the library...



Illustrated: A manic smiley because I'm still in an elevated mood; Not Pinky but a Chinese girl in a pink dress displaying a 52" telly; back in the day ~ Moira Stewart along with a guy with really terrible bus driver's glasses like I used to wear; the venerable Downton Abbey... featuring Dame Maggie Smith and if you're American by the way, you have to watch it on PBS ~ how patronizing and demeaning for such a classic show! Far as I know, PBS is a channel for programmes that are too foreign, worthy and irrelevant to everyday American life to be shown on the proper networks!, which in my opinion, Downton Abbey most certainly is not!!! It features Shirley McLaine as the Countess's mother for one thing... And maybe they should bring in Warren Beattey as an ageing, libidinous gardener to knock off Lady Mary...?

Hey, and then they could bring in an episdoe featuring an edwardian clap clinic! (not because I think Warren Beattey has the clap but his character would do... o yes and syphillis... did you know tertiary syphillis of the brain used to make a person die deliriously happy, according to an old psychology text i once read...

By the way, why don't manufacturers of computes make up new keys featuring question and exclamation marks with commas underneath? Because they are certainly needed...