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Chatty Moron

Bare with me on this one...i promise your perseverance will pay off.

(Source)
There is this guy in the bed opposite me, and he loves the sound of his own voice. I was ready for sleeps last night when he piped up on what i thought was his phone. Turns out he was having a 'conversation' with another of the patients but the other guy couldn't get a word in. I thought it was curious that he didn't even try and contribute to the conversation, until i was faced with the same situation this afternoon.

(Source)
I was already wound up as he started talking at 5am and didn't stop until i marched off the ward in search of a paper and bacon. When he approched me this afternoon i wasn't feeling up for a conversation with him, and it turns out he had no intention of having a conversation with me. What he did intend to do was talk. I'm not sure if he considered it as some sort of dramatic performance, or if he was practising being a brainwashing dictator, but he managed to talk constantly for 30 minutes without me making a sound.

(Source)
After 30 minutes i managed to jolt myself out of the bore induced coma long enough to say "thanks", put my ear phones in, lie down, and squeeze my eyes closed. It was the conversational equivalent of curling up in a ball to protect your organs from an unnecessary and uncalled for public beating. Any person with any element of social awareness would take pitty on me and end the beating, but he just walked closer and continued. I am ashamed to admit that i buckled under the pressure of the awkwardness, and sat up and sat in silence as he discharged his thoughts all over me.

As i write this a wonderful thing as happened. A fellow patient has taken the grenade on my behalf. The patient has just moved into the bed next to me, and has literally just come back from theatre. The chatty wanker, as he shall be hereafter refereed to, is talking at him. Big respect to the new guy, he is attempting to engage him...and i can feel him become weak under the pressure of the bullshit.

(Source)
The conversation goes a little something like this;

Wanker: so you've just come back from surgery? yeah i had an operation a few days ago and i have a pancreas and lungs, and a heart and legs etc.
New Guy: yeah i have just come back, i feel terrible
Wanker: You look okay, cause i saw my consultant this morning and i asked him what the worst case scenario is. He told me that the worst case scenario is that the hospital could collapse killing us all in the process.
New Guy: oh rite
Wanker: My daughter lent me her ipod, so i might be asking you for help with it later. I presume because of your age you know how to use it.
New Guy: no...
Wanker: oh rite i just presumed...so yeah my pancreas grew legs and made its way up my digestive system and laid eggs in my farts so now i have to carry a fishing net with me everywhere to catch the arse spawn everytime i break wind
New Guy: [enters coma]
Wanker: its not too bad though...you look fine...i am a bit worried about the arse spawn because i like big butts and i cannot lie.
New Guy: [coma continues...]
(Source)
Wanker: Its really interesting how they operate on ME. They did it lapROPEscopically (sic!!!!!!) so they put 3 holes in me and sought out my pancreas. They made the mistake of scaring it, and the local bobbie popped in and cautioned them for "worrying a pancreas". Obviously i didn't know anything about this cause i was asleep. Anyway, they scared the pancreas which is why it did a runner up the digestive tract.  Normally they play dead and you can pick them up by the neck like a newborn kitten...i'm thinking of suing, but anyway....
New Guy: [grunt]
Wanker: 9 hours and i said to the doctor can i have a smoke...i had everything done yesterday you see...i mean fair enough [mumble] and so by next morning tho time 8 hours had gone it didnt make that much difference... (i literally typed that LIVE, as he said it...)

Anyway...i think you get the message, i am going to kick him in his militant pancres if he keeps me awake tonight.

Rant Over.

PS...he just popped his head round my curtains. Thank god i once again had the foresight to have my earphones in so i could pretend i couldn't hear anything. I now feel vulnerable...he may start making his way over. Should i try and play dead again?

Cookie to the person who spots the 
link between these 'seemingly random' pictures.