“What, it hurts right there?” asked Dr. Dennis, once again pinching the bridge of my nose between his thumb and forefinger.
“And when I do this?”
“And this?”
“Oh, fuck'yeah!”
Then he pushed the tip of my nose up so I looked like a pig, and peering up two hairy nostrils he smiled and said, “Mr Spencer, I think you've suffered a broken hooter.”

Of course, doctors don't just tell you what's wrong, they then proceed to order you all around town,  completely fucking your day up (sometimes even your life).
You'll need to go there.. and see him... and get that.. and bring it here.. then I'll do this.. give you one of these.. and you'll do that.. then go back there.. and wear this.. and take that.. once a day.. and sleep like this.. after meals.. then come back here.. and above all, don't strain while you take a shit, blah, blah, blaaah”

On another day, in another life, I may have cared. After all, it was my nose. But somehow it seemed unimportant, like there was no-one to appreciate it anyway. If I ended looking like a beat up bum, so what! At least then I would have something concrete to stick the blame on for the repulsion I seem to engender in people.

No, it was too late for radiographs, consultations and brain scans. What does all that matter to a fated man? With that in mind, I popped my diazepam prescription in my shirt pocket, and the x-ray appointment I scrunched it up into a ball and playfully chucked it at the receptionist on my way out.

Fuck that, I had some serious fly-dumping to do...


  1. Royal Mail – Official Complaints Procedure:
    ...concerning a young members of staff and his mishandling of mail. Demand nothing less than instant dismissal.

    Good luck, Pissy Spencer. U do know that Royal Mail scan ALL your letters, don't u? Yeah, looking for those illegal/underage videos u have shipped over from the Phillipines.

  2. '... the repulsion I seem to engender in people'.


    I have several doctors on my payroll and they all confirm that you don't need to maul a patient's nose several times to work out if they've got a broken nose.

    They only do that if the patient's nose offends or repulses them...

  3. Mrs Winthrope, going back through my previous visits to Dr Dennis this year, you may very well be right!

    My list of crimes are as follows:

    Being reported dead. Tied up, bag over my head, death erection, etc.

    John insulting him.

    Me swearing.

    Turning up for an appointment in my pyjamas.

    Then this:

    My favourite wanking spot is just behind the front door. I stand there peeping through the spy hole whilst knocking one out. Sometimes, when it's dark, I'll actually put my dick out through the letter box. With the correct wind and a finger slipped up my arse No.42 spits out into the night.” That's what I told my doctor today. I don't know why, he just seems to have these ears that pull the truth and a whole lot more from my lips.

    And this:

    [call to doctor's receptionist]
    "Shall I go?” she giggled."
    Me: Silence
    "Mr Spencer???”
    Me: FFFrrrrpppp
    “...Er, ok then..” she faltered, completely unaware I had just farted down the line

    And they're just the things I've documented... X


Tristram's Birthday: Sunday 3rd October

Tristram's Birthday: Sunday 3rd October
Cheap jam sponge or something a little more exciting? How will Mr Spencer celebrate his 32nd year in hell?

Trolley Dash August 2010

Trolley Dash August 2010
Did Tristram accidently pick up a REAL bargain?

Brian the Postboy's gift to John: an ankle bracelet inscribed 'Super Dong'

Brian the Postboy's gift to John: an ankle bracelet inscribed 'Super Dong'
Scrap metal or has John been 'tagged'. Is Tristram Spencer really the only fated man in town?

The Dangerous Dandy by Barbara Cartland

The Dangerous Dandy by Barbara Cartland
Will Tristram finally be brought to account for his love of Babs? And: is 25 years hard labour enough?

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An Influx of Pigeons
Is there still some hope for the fated Mr Spencer?
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