Thursday, July 14, 2005

Lazy Blogging, Part XXXVIII

Lazy Blogging, Part XXXVIII

Another week, another ducking of my Thursday vote-o responsibilities. However, all is not lost. A none-more-busy Friday at Scaryduck Towers will still feature a high quality tale mirth AND woe, featuring a life-and-death struggle between man and beast, and brazen public nudity. What more can you ask?

Apart from talking crap in my comments. So…

Following the abject failure of Cunt Eye to top himself in my tale of woe a couple of weeks ago, we thought we could do him a favour by giving him a few tips in shuffling off this mortal coil.

We present, then, edited highlights from “101 Ways to Kill Yourself”, brazenly cut-and-pasted from the same Other Place that brought us yesterday’s “Worst Person Ever” poll idea (which will return next week).

It is, you realise, Lazy Week round here. If I could think of ways to avoid the chore of typing, I wou…

A rather poorly timed and exceedingly tasteless list of 101 Humourous or Ironic Ways to Kill Yourself

8. Bum the Queen senseless during the Royal British Legion Festival of Remembrance. During the National Anthem. With a scaffolding pole. Hey presto! They get a nice man with an axe to do the job for you.

21. Build a time machine and kill your dad before you were born. However, do not take pity on your mum, slip her a sympathy shag and end up being your own dad. This would be WRONG.

22. Pay Paul McKenna to hypnotise you into thinking you are a hedgehog. It's only a matter of time before you end up a red smear on the M1.

30. Buy a timeshare flat in "Sunni" Fallujah.

45. Appear on You've Been Framed juggling tigers. If, by chance, you survive, you'll get 250 quid, a witty comment from Harry Hill and a quickie from Lisa Riley, which may just finish you off.

46. Make an appointment to see Dr Harold Shipman about your verruca ten years ago.

51. Rub your genitals in the face of King Fahd of Saudi Arabia, whilst toking on the world's fattest doobie. (See number 8 above)

52. Go back in time to the year 30, grow a beard, get some sandals, use your hover-tron to pretend to walk on water, pay some bloke to pretend to come back from the dead, tell everybody that Jehovah's your old man, and presto! Nailed up before you know it.

64. Change your name to Sarah Connor, move to Los Angeles, and wait for a large, Austrian robot to knock on the door.

79. Buy every single Leonard Cohen record in the world, listen to them, then jump off a cliff or something.

90. Have plastic surgery to look like Maxine Carr, then enter the London Marathon.

Add. More.

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