There is no tattoo tippex..

So I am now indelibly marked with something completely irrelevant and meaningless, and I am not happy. I’ve contacted my GP, my MP, my MEP, BUPA, NHS Direct, seven different injury claims lawyers and my sister, but with no help. I am now seriously considering hiring a hitman. Either for ‘The Inkman’ to get my revenge, or for myself to put me out of my misery.
It still bloody hurts as well. This ‘painless procedure’ that I was promised is about as painless as a root canal or a haemorrhoid. Which, by the way, I seem to have developed from all the buttock-clenching I did while that bastard held me down and forced a needle repeatedly into my shoulder. What was I thinking? I knew, deep down, that it was not a good idea, and I still allowed myself to be swept along to the inevitable unhappy ending. Love is a bad thing, and Philippa (or PHILLIPA as I have to call her now to make my sodding shoulder accurate) owes me big now.
HE SPELT HER NAME WRONG.. AND IT’s PERMANENT..
I’ve lasted four years without swearing in this blog but FOR FUCK’S SAKE!!!!!

RC 13-6-11