As I made my way down the stairs with Leftwing Idiot from his parents’ flat this afternoon, I started ticcing about geraniums again.

“I’m a bit like Hitler but for geraniums.”
“Geranium holocaust”
“Imagine a world without geraniums.”
“Thank fuck for geraniums.”…

Superhero or not, I still catch a cold every so often and for the last few days I’ve been out of action with a stinker. I’ve written before about how being under the weather affects my ‘ticcing fits’ –basically, they get much worse.…

It’s very late, and I’ve just got back to the castle after my weekend away in Scotland with Ruth and Claire. I’m exhausted so I’ll keep this entry simple.

Ruth and I ticced a lot of strange and potentially inflammatory things in the airport and on the plane, but everyone was fantastic – security staff, crew, and other passengers.…

“My mum’s on a roller-coaster in Scotland, trapped by a bear.”

“My dad’s not here, he’s walking around naked in Scotland.”

Neither of my parents are actually in Scotland, but I am. I’m visiting my extended Tourettes family up here.

Despite all the talk of bombs at the airport, we made it past security and onto the plane without a hitch.…

My brain may be in Scotland but the rest of me hasn’t got there yet. But it will soon.

In a few hours Ruth, Claire and I will leave work, converge on Victoria Station, get on a train to Gatwick Airport and get test the accessibility of a well-known low budget airline.…

Here is what I ticced over lunch:

“Ive got all the lalias”
“Echolalia”
“Palilalia”
“Rambolalia”
“Discolalia”

Don’t’ bother looking the last two up. The first two are specific symptoms of Tourettes. The second two aren’t.

Fat Sister laughed and asked, “What’s Discolalia, compulsively copying someone else’s dance moves?”…

This morning I had a ‘ticcing fit’ while I was having a shower. I managed to turn the water off but I was stuck in the bath for a while before I could get the bath lift to make me level with the edge.…

Who’s brave enough to have a Tourettes tattoo?

Not a tattoo done by someone with a jerky arm like me – something much more terrifying.

Poppy mentioned she was thinking about getting another tattoo and I ticced a design suggestion:

“A cage-fighting monkey in a Nazi uniform flashing its pants.”…

When Fat Sister called earlier to say she was on her way round for dinner, she asked me to turn the oven on. My tics had three questions for her:

“Shall I rub my clitoris on it?”

“Shall I give it a lap dance?”…

I’ve been writing this blog for over two years now. In that time I’ve often wondered how many people have actually been reading my daily musings on living with Tourettes Syndrome.

This evening is the first time I’m fairly certain no one’s reading my blog.…