Video Week has been cut short! Why’s that? I’ll tell you for whys! I got really, really, distracted.
A) I was chatting to loads of people on MSN Messenger and they were all like “come on join the party” and I came back with “you better get this party started cos I’m the kinda guy who’ll never settle down”. Seriously, I am the most fun to party with. I say things like “Walla walla BONG” and crazy shit like that.
B) The second reason was that it’s been a truly magnificent day for my beast-colleague, Brenda. Who would have thought that Brenda’s most awful behaviour to date would revolve around the bereavement of a colleague? I shit you the fuck not, she was crying more than the woman whose dad had died.
C) We had a sad-face complaint from the Law of the Playground. I don’t have time to explain now, but the glorious upshot is that we made someone cry about her fat dead mum. I think we can probably step aside now, and say “mission accomplished”.
By way of apology, I’m going to go to Nottingham for four days, and come back on Sunday. Is that OK? Does a period of self-imposed Midlands sound fair enough to you? Or do you want more? Take a piece, I’ve got loads spare.
Before I go, though – if you want to see a photo of me murdering whores on the internet, then you really should probably go see Jekyll and Gingernuts. I’ve never looked dapperer, and frankly, you could have made more of an effort.
COMMENTS HOMEWORK FOR THE WEEKEND
Answer one or more of the following questions.
1. What do you bring to the party (bear in mind I’ve already brought the vodka and dancing honeys)?
2. Once I’ve wiped out all the whores, who should I murder next? Seems a shame to waste the momentum.
3. Should I take down this story from the Law of the Playground?
Mispronunciation of “My Keith”. Used primarily by the mother of [name removed], a gargantuan lumpy beast of a woman, who had a melted owl face and corned-beef arms. Her protective cry of “MAHR KEEF”, warped into a gigantic trumpet by her fatty fatty fatfat lungs of fat. She drove a car named “Cheese On Toast”, presumably because the idea of sitting inside of a huge piece of food made her wet her fat knickers in morbid glee.