Don't handle lines in Indonesia
Don't go swimming in Indonesia, or along those same lines, don't handle wet lines(as in ropes, for mooring a ship) without copious amounts of alcohol based hand sanitizer readily available. Or a blow torch.
Why? Allow me to explain. Apparently I've contracted a flesh eating skin disease which recently had been diagnosed as one thing, prescribed medication for that one thing, and hence has gotton worse due to misdiagnotion.
People around the ship are already calling me "Stumpy Mcgillicutty" in preperation for when they(and there is already a betting pool on this) have to cut off my arm. Naturaly I took the 10 - 1 odds that they won't cut it off at all. The odds are shit but, hey, you have to root for the home team, right?
I think that whole ordeal, along with the fact that I have been treated like a leper for the past two weeks, is probably the reason that a severe case of "I want to go home. RIGHT FUCKING NOW!" has set in. Of course I hide it the best I can, since it does me no good to display the symptoms of either ailment.
Yesterday I wasn't able to contain my complete dislike for the people around me and when I blew up on two senior people in my work center for not know how to do their job and relying on me to do it for them my cheif asked me "Damn Spain, what's eating you?"
I held up my arm and said, "I'm not sure, Chief, you want to take a stab at it?"
Why? Allow me to explain. Apparently I've contracted a flesh eating skin disease which recently had been diagnosed as one thing, prescribed medication for that one thing, and hence has gotton worse due to misdiagnotion.
People around the ship are already calling me "Stumpy Mcgillicutty" in preperation for when they(and there is already a betting pool on this) have to cut off my arm. Naturaly I took the 10 - 1 odds that they won't cut it off at all. The odds are shit but, hey, you have to root for the home team, right?
I think that whole ordeal, along with the fact that I have been treated like a leper for the past two weeks, is probably the reason that a severe case of "I want to go home. RIGHT FUCKING NOW!" has set in. Of course I hide it the best I can, since it does me no good to display the symptoms of either ailment.
Yesterday I wasn't able to contain my complete dislike for the people around me and when I blew up on two senior people in my work center for not know how to do their job and relying on me to do it for them my cheif asked me "Damn Spain, what's eating you?"
I held up my arm and said, "I'm not sure, Chief, you want to take a stab at it?"