I had a nice little victory today, I'd run out of my pain meds because the damn doctors don't give me sufficient to last the last day to two days of a week, so for the last day/two days and last night, I'd either withdraw, buy something, or else (again purchased) round up a whole load of the weak as hell OTC version of dihydrocodeine/paracetamol, remove the paracetamol and work a little magic on the DHC to convert it to 6-monoacetyldihydromorphine, a highly potent (and the most euphoric I have ever tried, including dipropionylmorphine) and effective opioid, in a yield of up to about 95%.
The 6-monopropionyl ester has yet to be tested, although its high up there on the mental to-do list.
As for the victory, I'd have been feeling like road kill by now, because the wee package that I had next-day-ed to me, it went to the wrong house by mistake, the sender got the house number wrong, but fortunately they were out of the house, and the mail man left one of those 'you got mail' cards.
Went to pick it up, showing ID, giving them the tracking number, but despite the monumentally tiny odds of two unrelated individuals having the exact same first and last name, living just across the street and a fraudster thieving a package in the post dept. by knowing the many-digit and letter tracking number, must be many thousands to one.
Old fart refused to hand it over after I explained my predicament, despite having photo ID, thought my 8th was going to end up undeliverable and that about £130 would end up right down the drain, but I went back early in the morning, and another guy was on shift, and he was decent about it and got me my nice big chunk of some rather naughty remedy to said predicament, one big chunk, straight off the key, well almost only one large block, there were a few chunks in there plus a bit of powder too.
Just as my eyes were starting to water, my nose run, and everything aching, the decent postal worker of the two handed me my parcel, and minutes later, I was home, and feeling better, with that damnable joint and bursitis pain no longer howling and screaming at my doing..well..anything, including sitting or lying down on either side, my front or my back.
Just about to have a wee toot now, before lighting a cigar, munching on a bar of turkish delight, and a load of fizzy sour bubblegum chewy candies, not quite sure whether I'll eat the turkish delight first, or have my cigar, although I am leaning strongly towards chowing down that turkish delight, maybe even two bars.
And for afters, I've two big, icing-slathered (and with some sort of tasty red strips on the top of the icing too) red velvet cakes, with guava juice to wash it down, plus a big bag of assorted candies and a load of those really moreish processed crap sliced cheese packs)
phobia.