Dating: Stand Up Excuse

"I was making you a matchstick model of the Taj Mahal as an introdctory showing off gift, when I inadvertently superglued my face to the ceiling. My faithful dog, Osama, noticed my plight, and attempted to dial your number then put the phone into speakerphone mode. Sadly he transposed the last 2 digits and I ended up calling a Double Glazing call centre. For 7 hours, I pleaded for them to call emergency services, but they had me agree to buy full triple glazing for all the street. Osama didnt bloody transpose my credit card number did he? I was getting quite worried now, so I pushed my shoe loose and kicked it out of the front window, hoping to alert a helpful stranger. Unfortunately it nobbled Scabarms McScumbag, the local drug addict who proceeded to climb in through the broken pane, glued me to the ceiling completely like a human spider, injected me with his used syringe, cut my clothes from me, sexually abused me with the help of a pile of furniture in the middle of the room, then ransacked my house of all valuables, only stopping on his way out to set fire to the chair mountain beneath me. Luckily, to a degree, the house is fitted with a very sensitive fire alarm and sprinkler system, unluckily, the builders were more akin to laying uneven tarmac than the intricacies of internal systems, and had wired the sprinkler to the gas pipe. Once activated, this caused a huge explosion which propelled my ceiling, with me attached, up through the roof and into the street, landing on the poor McScumbag chap, killing my rapist instantly but sadly lacerating my scalded buttocks on my 52" widescreen Toshiba HDTV which he was carrying away at the time. Thankfully, by this time a few neighbours had reported the noises to the relevant authorities. Apart from the tactical aid unit riddling me with rubber bullet ammo due to the impression I was part of a terrorist pact, then the fireman almost choking me to death with damping foam as he thought I was a charcoal efigy of modern art, I ended up in hospital in time to see my tale being guffawed over by Lorraine Kelly & co on This Morning. But I could make tomorrow at 7 if your still interested

Is there a metaphor or image for your life right now?

Posted: 7/8/2008 5:14:04 PM

A Bumble bee, stuck inside Jose Felicianos guitar, rapidly going deaf while smiling through the pain at the delicious irony as Jose breaks into a rapid version of "Flight of The Bumble Bee" and thinking back to the days when I used to be a W.A.S.P. that people despised, swatted and were prejudiced against for its uselessness in the great scheme of things on Gods experiment planet 20674b(9j).
I am fully expecting the blind guitar virtuosos' guide dog 'Django' to detect that all is not well with his masters version of the tune (although the dog incorrectly interprets the name as Blight of the Fumble Bee), and his cultured bark will alert the Guitarrista to my plight and I shall be left free, with my ears still buzzing, a bit like most of the rest of me.

This relates to how I feel when I've ran out of milk at 1.15am and could murder a nice cup of Yorkshire tea.