Tuesday, 2 March 2010

Saving the planet through death, avoiding an early grave, and such depressing demises..

After almost 6 months in a coma, induced by my fella, my boy, my man, my xbox schmootching chico, I am back. I'm still with him, but I'm now giving in to his need for numerous, brain numbing, finger bashing, 'video game' sessions, realising that I have better things to do. For example, I often talk to his cat, Max - a female. And when I'm not having an incredible, vocal dialogue with a smaller member of the Felidae familia, I often fall asleep with my neck in an awkward position. It's a bloody awesome life, Völker.

I'll tell you what my lovely dad has been up to though. What a TROOPER he is. A bloody annoying trooper. After those fabulous adverts on TV what inform the UK population that, by the way, if you have better loft insulation, you'll save energy, he decided to remove everything from our garbage tip of a roof and pile most of it up in the shower, along with a large stock of 80's toys in my mother's room and a nice pile of terrifying dolls that I apparently enjoyed looking at in my youth right outside my door. It took him HOURS, bless him. The nostalgic experience of being reunited with the clothes off my baby back and the all round beams of joy from our faces as mum pulled out her Cheryl-Twole-sized wedding dress were ruptured dramatically by the fact that all of us now have a case of severe asthma, with lung infections to go round. Cheers dad.

Oh well, at least we're saving the planet, deadly cough by deadly cough.

Talking about deadly, and not to be disrespectful, but what's with all these celebrities popping their clogs? They're dropping like flies one after the other. It's pretty clear that God is on a mission of celeb destruction, with all us everyday folk clinging onto the ark of an average, behind-closed-door life. Or maybe it's not that at all. After all, I'm sure you wouldn't see Aunty Mary from down the road's demise plastered all over the evening news. But still, Aunty Mary's death isn't shrouded by a cloud of mystery - was MJ murdered - what the hell did Brittany Murphy die from - and now Kristian Digby randomly 'found dead'. The big 'G's after them, so whatever you do, don't enrole into stage school until He changes His mind and goes for the chavs.

NB: RIP to all those what have died recently, celebrity or non-celebrity. xxx