Tuesday, 11 January 2011

Murder on the dance floor. Or indeed, any floor.

Hi there,

Your old friend Barry Chindouche here: set your synaptic connections from stun to kill – pun definitely intended1.

Murder. It isn’t very nice. Or is it?

No. It isn’t. However, I have always believed that words were invented for a reason – so as the word murder exists, I believe there needs to be some murder to justify it. Otherwise it’s a waste of letters.

Now, please stop jabbing the 9 key on your phone2, I have never murdered anyone in my life3. I just think that there are a number of notable murders throughout history that needed to happen. If you don’t believe me, scan down this list, and then tell me I’m mad. You won’t be able to. I’m always right.

  1. Queen Victoria. Victorian Britain had been going on for ages. For almost 82 years, the inhabitants of this lonely isle had put up with the worst national moniker in history: Victorians. To rhyme with chlamydia. Had Lord Jefferson Thrumpingtit not sliced her guts open, who knows? She might still be alive today – and we’d still be the bloody Victorians.
  2. Clive Anderson. Not THE Clive Anderson of course. This Clive was a door-to-door kitchen supplies salesman. He would use inane banter about "not being THE Clive Anderson!" This even led to THE Clive Anderson having a nervous breakdown and refusing to film any more shows. One customer (and avid “Whose Line is it Anyway?” fan) finally snapped and saw red. Clive was found dead in a lay-by, having had feather dusters shoved into his eyes and the words “I fucking KNOW you’re not THE Clive Anderson” written on his naked torso in faeces. A post mortem examination revealed 39 litres of bleach in his stomach. And THE Clive Anderson, thankfully, returned to the studio the very next day.
  3. Pope John Paul II. Murdered by atheist Britney Chesterfield when she slipped five electric eels into his papal bath. A necessary termination: his dying breath was reported to be “At least I never changed my stance on contraception!”
  4. Michael Jackson. The world would never have survived his come back tour. Thank you Conrad Murray.

So there you have it. Four fully justifiable murders: just please, don’t add to it. Four is enough for me.

B. Chindouche

1I always intend my puns. For help being as good as me at punnery, see future blog post “Puns? I’ve got them by the punnet load”.
2For my American readers, the emergency number in this country is 999. And that's how it should be – 911 is just confusing. Change it now please.
3but if I need to kill someone, I could and I would. And I’d make it look like an accident. So don’t mess with me.

No comments:

Post a Comment