Did the Isle of Man government start an exciting new festival called the Running of the Retards and hold it in Port Erin today? It was as if everywhere I turned, some gill-flapping, web-handed, buck-toothed monstrosity was oozing along the pavement in front of me, blocking the entire fucking road, forcing me to walk in their Slurmtrail and moving at an approximate speed of 1/1000000000000000000000000000000000000000th of a mile per year.
I did have a minor cheer-up though - I went for a ride on the steam trains (after a wait of about ten thousand years to wait for the flipper-footed foot traffic to get out of my fucking way) and some slack-jawed dribbling halfwit kept sticking it's head out of the window, only to get slapped in the face by a passing bramble. Totally worth having to listen to it whimper all the way into Douglas for the sheer look of pained suprise on it's face when it happened. Read the fucking safety warnings, dumbass! They apply to whatever-the-fuck hideously mutated species you are as well as regular humans!
On the subject of hideously mutated, I started rewatching Bleach a few days ago. I've never seen all of it and the last time I saw it was a few years back. Anyway, I remembered a few things (Aizen's a douchebag, Renji isn't, mostly) but I apparently managed to block out the image of that one creepy conehead scientist dude's sword transforming into a dead foetus on top of a catapillar. Sick and wrong, you guys. Sick. And. Wrong.