Pink Turns Puke

@pinkturnspuke.bsky.social

Human bop-it and phlegm sluice. Brighton/London. (They/Them)

Attended a Red Cross first aid course recently. When I successfully packed haemostatic dressing into a slit in pool noodle simulating a severe wound, the instructor did a Charlie Sheen “winning!”. RIP to whoever’s life I fail to save in future when I remember this instead of how a defribulator works

Saw an ad where the Automobile Association describes itself as a “breakdown provider”. Who do they think they are, my EX??? (They were also a PLC founded in 1905 by William John Bosworth, to help motorists avoid police speed traps in response to the Motor Car Act 1903 which introduced new penalt-

Was trying to sleep during the heatwave last night and kept getting a crystal clear repeating aural hallucination of Patrick Stewart introducing Salt n Peppa on SNL but instead he was saying: “ladies and gentlemen, BLISS and TERROR!”

UK plant species that I think sound like no-nonsense American businessmen: Sharp Rush Red Fescue Rough Clover Wood Spurge Musk Mallow Rock Samphire Heath Speedwell Hedge Knapweed Nottingham Catchfly Chickweed Wintergreen

When Bloodhound Gang sing “yes I’m Siskel, yes I’m Ebert and you’re getting 2 thumbs up”, this sounds quite complimentary, but, looking at all the films they awarded this to, it just means the band see your equivalent worth as being anywhere between Fritz Lang’s ‘M’ and Speed II: Cruise Control.

The Romanian supermarket near my house has changed its name to Dracula’s Castle. This is because the legendary count aquired his aristocratic status by separately selling multipack cans of KA Fruit Punch.

If I was a closer in the Mets, my walkout music would be the unabridged audiobook of The Hobbit. The opposing team would be so moved by Thorin Oakenshield’s tragic desire for the arkenstone that it would put the match in perspective, and exorcise their vainglorious preoccupation with glory.

Ousted from my role as personality hire for the John Birch Society for becoming embroiled in a hot-micing incident in which I described Paul Bunyan’s nutsack as “umpteen fathoms broad” and “winsomely slurpable”.