Perous Secret Diary - Keep Out: September 11, 2012

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DTT with mr.bunny.
the mini interior is soon black leather and short white hairs everywhere.

meet the surveyors at the new-perou-factory-to-almost-be

am surprised to find my £200 padlock and chain on the gates replaced with a MUCH inferior version.

looking through the badly secured gates, i can see that someone has been (back?) and removed the(ir?) shitty 4 berth caravan full of new kitchen knives and dog food.

to do this would have involved considerable noise and time: the locks i had put on were hardened steel.

they couldn't be bolt cropped: they had to be angle ground
and the caravan was wedged between a wall of the building and the wall of the perimeter.

brazen baddies

they'd also been into the building and removed any last thing of small value.

but why put their own locks on?
are they planning on coming back and if so for what?
or were they just being considerate, locking up after themselves?

start the day by buying bolt croppers down the romford road (and more locks)
twice, seperate ladies in burkas shrieked and jumped sideways as i walked past with mr.bunny on a short lead.

ALL people that are scared of dogs annoy me.
especially when they're scared of dogs on a lead paying them no attention whatsoever.

i leave the surveyors to their surveying and take mr.bunny to meet cheboy for lunch at pub on the park.
che asks if they teach you what SCUBA stands for in dive classes

self contained underwater breathing apparatus

i am learning to scuba dive: i'm doing a PADI open water course

the first lesson is in a swimming pool in margate owned by the 'school for the deaf'

i LOVE being able to breath underwater

i don't know why i didn't do this years ago: especially as i used to think i was the 'man from atlantis'

swimming was my 'thing' when i was a kid.

unfortunately being in water sets off my ibizan jellyfish stings.
the toxins are reactivated in a flashback memory of a week ago kind of thing

after a couple of hours in the pool with an ever expanding forearm, the dive school suggest a trip to A&E and as i'm round the corner from our nearest, decide to go.
i get lucky:
it is a quiet night for people getting accidentally hospitalised.

after an hour and a bit, i get seen by a doctor.

'hello i am doctor jose' he says in a spanish accent

'are you spanish?' i ask

'yes', he says, '...what is the problem?'

'your jellyfish did this to me' i go, showing him the welts on my back and my swollen, red arm: the work of ibizan jellyfishes

'good' said dr.jose

'que?'

maybe this is a language thing.

'nobody asked you to swim with our jellyfish' says dr.jose

'i wasn't in ibiza clubbing...i was there for 'work'', i protest

dr jose is amused and kindly suggests my arm is not going to need to be amputated: the jellyfish did not implant alien babies in my arm and those babies are not about to hatch.

ice and piriton

the dive school said someone they know got a jellyfish sting on his face and four years later it is still visible.
i don't mind having a matchbox sized burn on my forearm forever but i wish it would stop itching.

much more itchy itchy than ouchy ouchy