For those of you that wish you could make your morning just that extra bit crappier, let me introduce "The Testicle Punching Alarm Clock!"

This morning I was woken up to hear the doorbell being repeatably bashed. I ignored it because frankly I had 10 more minutes left till my alarm went off and I don't care if Chuck Norris himself is here to save me from the communists, I'm not fucking giving up my last 10 minutes. Actually come to think of it, Chuck wouldn't use the doorbell, he'd just touch the door and it would self implode from fear But I digress, so Tiggs eventually gets up and answers the door and its road workers saying I need to move my car immediately. I throw on some pants over my boxers and have to walk out past all the men with no bra and just a singlet top on and move the bloody car. After this is finally done, I chuck some brocolli on to boil for lunch and go to have a shower. It's then I realised that the discomfort I feel was not from the leering pervets but from acute chest pains. My first thought was 'god I'm having a heartattack and the closest person with CPR knowledge is one of those perverts" but I then notice they weren't going down my arm so it was probably something else. So I quickly showered, packed my bag and sped off to the doctors. I told them what was wrong and I was made to take a seat and when I eventually saw a doctor it turned out to be the blond devil spawn lady that yells at you. Straight off the bat I got in trouble for not coming in earlier for my second gardisil injection and when she finally examined me it turns out I have an enflamed breast bone. Apparently it will hurt for a week and I should take neurophen. But she wasn't finished there, now I had to go get jabbed with a monster needle. After this, I was allowed to skip happily off to my first class of the morning where the lecturer likes to repeatably tell us that we're lazy if we use technology and we should do graphs and calculations by hand. Life's just swell, ain't it?