Massive Bumming Campaign (One More Time)

I have returned from the parental bosom with my haul of seasonal bounty, shards of coconut falling from my big ol' bag, bursts of sneeze with a dash of cranberry sauce discarded in my wake. Merry things and a happy James Brown death to you all. I'm not sure he'll be getting on up and feeling like a sex machine anymore, unless his autopsy is conducted by a particularly necrophilliac Quincy ME.

Nixon's understudy and husband of Betty, President Gerald Ford-Clinic also died over the festive period. Saddam Hussein has been sentenced to death within the month. It seems they're dropping like flies, or maybe it's because there's nothing else to report as the rest of the population is gorging themselves on cake and The Two Ronnies.

Fate (or a grumpy God) also made a feeble attempt to relieve Tony Blair of his smug life as he set off on a BeeGees theme holiday of a lifetime. It was either by shortening Miami Airport's runway or steaming up the pilot's glasses, making him run over a few bits of broken glass or some street lights, depending on which report you believe. Well, I don't believe. I think the truth has been denied to us by a massive Cliffmas cover-up.

It was obviously a failed bid by evil Dame Sir Cliff of Richards to steal the life-force of celebrities that will keep him looking unnaturally young (well, perpetually 50, at least). He's already claimed James (Hit Me!) Brown & President Ford, he must be stopped before he gets ever more desperate, laying waste to great swathes of the inhabitants of Hello! magazine. His goal is to lose at least another thirty years in order to join Westlife and have another crack at the Christmas number one. Sadly, even this will not be enough as Westlife has been usurped by the triple headed Osbourne-Cowell-Walsh beast, named (whisper it) The X-Factor.


Currently listening to this pressie: A Piano by Tori Amos