Cherry Blossom Clinic.

[Daz Madrigal]

Alle woes and musinge shalle reside herein.

[gus2]

It's March you deleted and what happend to February? ;D

gus

[Daz Madrigal]

Not that type of musing, Gus..something..err..intellectual.

Lissen lets call it off for a few days or weeks whilst I think of something. I just like the words Cherry Blossom Clinic (ty Roy Wood!),

[Daz Madrigal]

Ahh I hear the so-called "soothing" sound of Muzak!

..this is supposed to put thee Patients of Cherry Blossom Clinic into a calm, meditative mood whilst in actuality having thee opposite effect of sending them quietly round thee bend (were it not for thee fact that we are already round thee bend to start with.

Thee patient room is full whereupon it instantly metamorphoses itself into the "Impatient Room". Already Daz is doubting his sanity. The sign says quite clearly INPATIENTS ONLY. Warily casting a glance at my fellow inmates I am surprised by their relative normality. A man in a pin stripe suit and gold watch chain stares gloomily at the broadsheet (obviously in a deep and unfathomable depression), no doubt his mind is on other things he shuffles uneasily in his seat hoping that the gravitas of the broadsheet (the Telegraph of course) will prove to his fellows that he is far from mad but a veritable Pillar of Society.

The gloom is palpable in the air and mixes with the incessant "Muzak" to create an unholy flux that is so potent ones only response is to stare out of the window and wish one were free.

In one hour from now the Waiting Room shalle be magically transformed into a joyous and merrie place resounding with peels of laughter (and without thee aid of bizarre muti-coloured little pills) - even Pinstripe Man shall smile, a slow, sad smile. How and why remains to be known. A glimpse into thee future proffers a small clue..when a giggling lady hands Daz a shopping bag he has left sitting on the chair knowing that these people would not even dream of pinching the item.
..we are now in Cherry Blossom Clinic. We shall never fully escape the stench. Never fully rid ourselves from sugary sweet Mantovani strings.

One day I promise myself I shall assassinate the man who decided to introduce piped Muzak.