I don't like the drugs but the drugs like me.

I'd like to wallow in self pity if I may:

Fuck! These drugs are horrendous. Well, not the drugs, they were nice, but the withdrawal from them is heinous. I'm itching and restless, tired but can't sleep. In pain but so disgusted with these painkillers' effects that all I can do is toss and turn and get up and smoke more cigarettes.

Day 1 of not smoking weed: Meh, whatever. I'll have one when I have one.

Day 1 of not taking Tramadol: twitching, aching, restlessness.

Day 2 of not smoking weed: Yeah, I'll have an egg butty.

Day 2 of not taking Tramadol: Emotionally erratic, serious twitching, restlessness, aching etcetera etcetera.

I even tried wanking, which usually solves most problems let's face it. And for a few blissful moments I was realised from this nightmare of suffering. Wank number two was the same, and that's usually the one to send me off to a blissfull night's sleep.

That made me segway into thoughts about how men think they have exclusive rights on the word wank. Ha!

And fuck for that matter. Fucking does not require a penis to enter the vagina, despite what the rape laws say.

Oh, I dunno. Maybe I need an egg butty.