Aren’t you fucking dead yet
Poisoned you at dinner turned turkey burger sinner
Drowned you in the lake by mistake
You were allergic to nuts
Put them in your birthday cake at pizza huts
Stabbed you in the back
Throo you under a bus
Chopped you into bits
Pushed you down the toilet and flushed
Went for a walk white cliffs of Dover
Never meant to push you over
You gotta believe I never wanted you dead
Electric window chopped off your head
Killed you by accident with an iron
Smashed you in the face by mistake
Took you to the zoo
Fed you to the lions
It wasn’t my fault
Stuck by a lightning bolt
All this effort and your still not
Fucking dead
When I turn over there you are in the bed
Drooling and snoring
And live continues to be just as fuckin
Borin!
Tuesday 2 December 2008
Monday 1 December 2008
Death by pita……
I arrived home rather early from yet another birthday drinks evening it was Saturday night midnight, I had had 4 and a half pints of lager and half a glass of Champagne and exactly 12 role up cigarettes. I had eaten a cheese sandwich at 1300 hours and a portion of chips at 1600 hours I was drunk and hungry. I had declined the offer to go clubbing to disco blood bath night club and instead made a quick exit and was now only three bus stops and a short walk away from a pita sandwich. I made haste on leaving the bus almost running but not quite. I had decided on the way home to keep the pita simple I would have cheese and margarine with a hell of lot of salt,. My mouth watered, I was at the door fumbling for the keys, that’s it up the stairs and away in the flat.
I walked in to find my flatmate on the sofa smoking we made noises at each other, and I rushed into the kitchen straight into the freezer were I plucked the frozen pitas from there nest and placed them in the toaster. Pitas are one thing that we have in abundance at our house the reason being you can buy exactly four packs of pitas for a pound at out local shop. Each pack has four or five pitas in it making potentially 20 pitas for a pound, imagine that value! We buy in bulk and freeze them so we always have them hand it makes me feel like a wealthy person, I’ve got pitas to burn! Pitas are good for eating but are also extremely useful in other ways they make fantastic floor cleaners, wiping services, keeping fires going, a lethal weapon(frozen) and they make very comfortable and stylish house shoes!
As I popped my pitas in the toaster and plunked the plunka down on the side a relief finally came over me a tension that had been mounting since 2300 hours was now finally dispersing with the pita in my grasp. I used the time the pitas took to toast to prepare my filling and cut the cheeses just so, and got the margarine from the fridge and gather the amount I wanted on to a knife. I stood and patiently waited for the toaster to give the pita up. All the while me and my flatmate had been having a lazy conversation from the kitchen to the front room, this was fine a little distracting from the task In hand, but not too taxing.
The pita popped up high out of the toaster as though it was trying to escape I wouldn’t let that happen I grabbed it and burnt my hand doing so. I pushed the pita to the plate and sliced at it, like doing open heart surgery the steam rose up and onto my glasses temporally blinding me, no matter I quickly removed them and proceeded with the operation. I spread the margarine witch dissolved into the pita, I place my pre chopped cheese on to the surface, this was going to be good. I wrap it up this is the moment I have been waiting for I Jab the pita into my mouth fast and begin chewing furiously. It is so good just what I had hope for like heavens alexia. I am eating, I am chewing, I am happy. I take another bite my flat mate is still talking to me from the other room I have now started to answer in murmurs as the pita is making it hard for me to speak. I jabb again I want this damn pita and I’m gonna have it all of it all of it now. I had jabbed too hard and choked a little. I cough but nothing moves my mouth and throat are filled with pita, I am choking yes choking, it wont budge I cough again nothing happens I can feel myself going red as I began to gasp for much needed air. I realise then that I am going to die.
I was panicking and choking, my whole life flashed before me all the hours id spent in the DVD shop’s all the wrong choices I had made like “babe pig in the city” and “legally blond two” I had so many regrets and no time to fix them now.
My flatmate was now asking me another question from the front room, something about a glass and Peru. I murmur back hoping this will satisfy as an answer. I knew that under no circumstances must my flatmate find out that I am choking the embarrassment of this would be too great. I had to do everything in my power to conceal my immanent death.
“What did you think then” she says
“ hhhmm”
“What was that?”
“MmmMM”
I am managing to take wasp breaths for the time being but I know it is a matter of minutes before I stop breathing all together. My flatmate on not hearing me decides to come into the kitchen to hear my response clearer.
“ I was just asking if you knew the capital of Peru”
I turn to the sink now, my back towards her, she mustn’t be able to tell that I am chocking to death in case she try’s to help and I have to put up with the embarrassment of being saved.
She seems no to notice and potters around and gets a glass
“You’re rather odd she says”
“mmm” now a low slow murmur
I nod pretending to do dishes, I don’t turn around. I had taken at that moment what I thought was going to be my last breath.
I knew if I had let my flat mate know that I was choking, she would have tried to save me, with humiliating techniques like the hymen manoeuvre. Can you imagine that! For me live wouldn’t be worth living after such a manoeuvre , such an embrace I would find it hard to hold my head up in public and would be forced to leave London and change my name to Derek move to Doncaster and work in a baked bean factory.
That must not happen I must not be saved I must die quietly with my dignity.
It is becoming to much to conceal as I begin to splutter, she exits the room I am greatly relieved as now I can die alone unnoticed.
I decide to go to the bathroom were I can lock the door, so it would be virtually impossible for my flatmate to save me as she hear’s me choking in my last moments.
The end was ni, I grabbed my throat I wasn’t breathing at all anymore panic had faded away, I had accepted my fate, my flatmate shouted from the other room
“You ok?”
I cough, this is it I think death take me in your arms, then another cough I feel the pita is dislodging a miracle! Its loose I open my mouth as it falls out of it onto the floor. I quickly shout back.
“Yeah fine”
I walked in to find my flatmate on the sofa smoking we made noises at each other, and I rushed into the kitchen straight into the freezer were I plucked the frozen pitas from there nest and placed them in the toaster. Pitas are one thing that we have in abundance at our house the reason being you can buy exactly four packs of pitas for a pound at out local shop. Each pack has four or five pitas in it making potentially 20 pitas for a pound, imagine that value! We buy in bulk and freeze them so we always have them hand it makes me feel like a wealthy person, I’ve got pitas to burn! Pitas are good for eating but are also extremely useful in other ways they make fantastic floor cleaners, wiping services, keeping fires going, a lethal weapon(frozen) and they make very comfortable and stylish house shoes!
As I popped my pitas in the toaster and plunked the plunka down on the side a relief finally came over me a tension that had been mounting since 2300 hours was now finally dispersing with the pita in my grasp. I used the time the pitas took to toast to prepare my filling and cut the cheeses just so, and got the margarine from the fridge and gather the amount I wanted on to a knife. I stood and patiently waited for the toaster to give the pita up. All the while me and my flatmate had been having a lazy conversation from the kitchen to the front room, this was fine a little distracting from the task In hand, but not too taxing.
The pita popped up high out of the toaster as though it was trying to escape I wouldn’t let that happen I grabbed it and burnt my hand doing so. I pushed the pita to the plate and sliced at it, like doing open heart surgery the steam rose up and onto my glasses temporally blinding me, no matter I quickly removed them and proceeded with the operation. I spread the margarine witch dissolved into the pita, I place my pre chopped cheese on to the surface, this was going to be good. I wrap it up this is the moment I have been waiting for I Jab the pita into my mouth fast and begin chewing furiously. It is so good just what I had hope for like heavens alexia. I am eating, I am chewing, I am happy. I take another bite my flat mate is still talking to me from the other room I have now started to answer in murmurs as the pita is making it hard for me to speak. I jabb again I want this damn pita and I’m gonna have it all of it all of it now. I had jabbed too hard and choked a little. I cough but nothing moves my mouth and throat are filled with pita, I am choking yes choking, it wont budge I cough again nothing happens I can feel myself going red as I began to gasp for much needed air. I realise then that I am going to die.
I was panicking and choking, my whole life flashed before me all the hours id spent in the DVD shop’s all the wrong choices I had made like “babe pig in the city” and “legally blond two” I had so many regrets and no time to fix them now.
My flatmate was now asking me another question from the front room, something about a glass and Peru. I murmur back hoping this will satisfy as an answer. I knew that under no circumstances must my flatmate find out that I am choking the embarrassment of this would be too great. I had to do everything in my power to conceal my immanent death.
“What did you think then” she says
“ hhhmm”
“What was that?”
“MmmMM”
I am managing to take wasp breaths for the time being but I know it is a matter of minutes before I stop breathing all together. My flatmate on not hearing me decides to come into the kitchen to hear my response clearer.
“ I was just asking if you knew the capital of Peru”
I turn to the sink now, my back towards her, she mustn’t be able to tell that I am chocking to death in case she try’s to help and I have to put up with the embarrassment of being saved.
She seems no to notice and potters around and gets a glass
“You’re rather odd she says”
“mmm” now a low slow murmur
I nod pretending to do dishes, I don’t turn around. I had taken at that moment what I thought was going to be my last breath.
I knew if I had let my flat mate know that I was choking, she would have tried to save me, with humiliating techniques like the hymen manoeuvre. Can you imagine that! For me live wouldn’t be worth living after such a manoeuvre , such an embrace I would find it hard to hold my head up in public and would be forced to leave London and change my name to Derek move to Doncaster and work in a baked bean factory.
That must not happen I must not be saved I must die quietly with my dignity.
It is becoming to much to conceal as I begin to splutter, she exits the room I am greatly relieved as now I can die alone unnoticed.
I decide to go to the bathroom were I can lock the door, so it would be virtually impossible for my flatmate to save me as she hear’s me choking in my last moments.
The end was ni, I grabbed my throat I wasn’t breathing at all anymore panic had faded away, I had accepted my fate, my flatmate shouted from the other room
“You ok?”
I cough, this is it I think death take me in your arms, then another cough I feel the pita is dislodging a miracle! Its loose I open my mouth as it falls out of it onto the floor. I quickly shout back.
“Yeah fine”
Coffee and Tea
I find it hard to grasp simple concepts and when I get nervous my hearing goes completely and I become tone deaf which is quite an inconvenience on a first day of a new job or at the cheese counter in Sainsbury’s.
I like listening to love song ballads when I’m cooking as I think it makes the food taste nicer. I’m not a fan of these new over sized buggies and when I see a really ridiculously sized one, it makes me angry for up to a week later. When I see a young family with a traditional pram I feel I want to congratulate them.
Other things that make me angry are people that stroll in a tube station, slow bus drivers, (bus drivers generally), bad manners, the HSBC bank, call centres, the television programme “Through The Key Hole” and people who wait till the end of a cloak room line cue to disrobe.
Things that make me happy are finding money, Murder She Wrote, waking up on Saturdays, and people tripping over in the street.
I have a fear of answering the telephone as I always think it is going to be bad news. Most days when returning home I am always slightly apprehensive, because I fear my rented house will have burnt down and it will some how be my fault, I often plan on the bus home what I will do when this inevitable situation happens, it involves a haircut a new name and a stint in the army.
In the morning I prefer tea rather than coffee as I like to be teased awake rather than slapped. I am still dreading January and it is April already were does the time go? I have been making many decisions about my costume lately and it is shorts and long socks I shall be wearing what ever the weather, I do sometimes catch a glimpse of myself and fear I have lost touch altogether with the outside world.
I like listening to love song ballads when I’m cooking as I think it makes the food taste nicer. I’m not a fan of these new over sized buggies and when I see a really ridiculously sized one, it makes me angry for up to a week later. When I see a young family with a traditional pram I feel I want to congratulate them.
Other things that make me angry are people that stroll in a tube station, slow bus drivers, (bus drivers generally), bad manners, the HSBC bank, call centres, the television programme “Through The Key Hole” and people who wait till the end of a cloak room line cue to disrobe.
Things that make me happy are finding money, Murder She Wrote, waking up on Saturdays, and people tripping over in the street.
I have a fear of answering the telephone as I always think it is going to be bad news. Most days when returning home I am always slightly apprehensive, because I fear my rented house will have burnt down and it will some how be my fault, I often plan on the bus home what I will do when this inevitable situation happens, it involves a haircut a new name and a stint in the army.
In the morning I prefer tea rather than coffee as I like to be teased awake rather than slapped. I am still dreading January and it is April already were does the time go? I have been making many decisions about my costume lately and it is shorts and long socks I shall be wearing what ever the weather, I do sometimes catch a glimpse of myself and fear I have lost touch altogether with the outside world.
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