Still ill. Just not as much. May call off work tomorrow. I'm already officially over my annual sick-leave allowance (a whole 3 days!) threshold as of my second day anyway. May as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb, etc.

Oh, right, and random (old) LJ link of the day: this guy is my hero. There's a alley on my way to work between two sets of very nice houses. It leads into a sort of leafy cut-through which bypasses other nice house on its way to a small sheltered housing development. I don't know what kind of low-brained, low-cultured, not fit-to-live-in-houses type of personages have taken themselves to move into the area recently, but there has been a huge surge in not just stupid littering of bottles, cans and those fucking polystyrene fast food containers, but active tipping of unwanted household goods - old clothes, books, bikes, beds (the first two of which there are drop-points for within walking distance, the second the council will take away if called) into both areas in the past year. You know it's bad when passing mid-afternoon drunks accost you to commiserate with and complain to you about the disgusting fucking state of the area.

The other day, on my way to work in the windy, rainy morning, I found the alley blocked by a flapping, discarded plastic Twister mat, which, covered in water, provided a very lovely slip hazard to anyone passing by. Scattered around it were discarded GSCE study guides and other teen/kiddie crap (oh hay breeders!). I had to pick it up and throw it aside (not actually that easy given I had two bags and an aversion to wrestling with large, rain-covered bits of kiddie crap), getting dirty rain water on myself, to pass by safely, which of course, made me double-plus unhappy. If there had been anyone around who looked remotely responsible for this standing near I'd have been inclined to make them eat it. Then I would have located their children, dipped them in glue, rolled them over an old carpet and sold them as cancer monkeys to the nearest lab. That's how much I hate litterers. Shit in your own home if you must - shit in my streets and my environment and you've no-one to blame if I or anyone else eventually rubs your nose in it and makes you cry.

ANYWAY. I have entertained fantasies of putting up some very rudely-worded notice about how Tippers Are All Cunts and Stunted Little Bell-Ends (Breeder Tippers Doubly So) but I think it would probably be legally safer to call the council. It's getting to be a health hazard down there, what with dirty fucking nappies (o hay breeders once more) making an appearance this week. But I'd much prefer the spectacle of a large, flamboyant drag artiste publicly shaming and intimidating the fuck out of the culprits and giving them special nightmares for the rest of their waking lives. Wouldn't you?

Oh and:

I hate this herd behavior and collective code of silence among people, even when they're pissed off about something.

This pisses me off too about this country - how most people will sit collectively seething and no-one will do speak up even when they are in the absolute clear majority and won't get beaten up (ok, again, hard to tell with the number of mentally unstable, overgrown toddlers around) but still, it rankles. I told - yes, told - some dumb, over-mascara-ed, under-intelligent, peroxided little bitch on the bus to turn her fucking speaker phone off on the bus the other day - yes and she did, with a look of slack-jawed incomprehension at how anyone could possibly object to her blaring tinny fucking princess pop music at 100 decibels on a bus at 8am. I knew if I didn't, no other bugger would - they'd just sit there all mute and seething (in fact they already were) and complain at length to anyone BUT the person who most needed to hear it. I mean, we all have to pick our battles, but there's generally a battle or two most of us of sound body, large gob and an overwhelming sense of pissiness can win.