The Curse of the Kettle

It's the middle of the night and I'm sitting here in a strong jacket with a strong blanket. How did I get here is what you might be asking.

That fucker of a kettle started it all. I was fine and then whamo, I can hear it calling me. Not literally, more like a magnet pulling in an iron bar. It's begging  me to pour water over my arm again. So I tell someone and off goes the kettle. Fine.

So I go to bed and take all my meds. Sleep, ahhhhh. For an hour. FUCK ME SIDEWAYS WITH YOUR SISTERS CUNT. Now I know nothing good is going to come off this night. Me plus zero sleep equals trouble.

i’m finding it really hard to type my hands really sore.

I'm post more later