Physician, heal thyself

I must have been a really sadistic bastard in a previous incarnation to have been charged with the reviewing of this mass of singed pubic lice.

Tissues ready?

A just turned 20 year old medical student in India is having such a hard time of it, he feels the need for a ‘special place’, I think it may be due to the trauma of a busted button (which he blames on the tardiness of his 3rd or 4th man servant bloke).

Or, perhaps it’s the sheer degradation of (wait, are you sitting for this?) having to medically examine someone for his qualification, as, ummm, errr, ah yes, - a doctor.

How demeaning.

It’s a manky looking blog, tatty and dated, and this guy’s whining just about gave me liver failure.
His woe-is-fucking me attitude, in combination with his, admittedly remarkable, ability to turn a potentially interesting post about a coming of age, into a master class in inanity, is spread over this blog like snot on a tinker’s sleeve.

You wanted divine inspiration?
I reckon your best bet is to wrap your head in tinfoil, go find your special place, lie down, and wait for a lightening storm.

Seriously? Write more often, give us an idea of who you are, because the couple of posts a month don't help your cause.

Other than that, quit moaning, get doctoring and come back in 30 years when life has really fucked you over, and you have a more pixel worthy gripe than ‘not being alone’.

You are one fairly privileged kid, but I want to shake you until your neck makes funny noises, or until someone who's paid to comes running to your rescue.

One big warty, un-lubricated flaming finger up the anus for you, boy.