I am an angry man. I am so angry I can hardly go to the toilet properly, and I have found myself quite unable to iron my own underpants. And for good reason, too. It's not as if I left my birthday list where people couldn't see it: pages 4-14 in the Dorset Echo don't come cheap, you know. But there you go - the entire world chose to ignore this most auspicious of occasions (eclipsed only by Dear Leader Kim Jong-Il's birthday on the following day), and all I have to my name is a box of 40 PG Tips and a partially completed loyalty card for Claire's Accessories. Kim got his own atomic bomb, 50,000 tons of American fuel oil and all the virgins he can eat. Where's the justice?
Before I plan my awful revenge, here is a short list of things I wanted for my birthday but did't get.
- A tomato ketchup bottle in the shape of a tomato
- A brown sauce bottle in the shape of a ...err... forget it
- Egg
- A novelty condiment set in the shape of two pigs doing the sexussss and lucky bingo card with the words "A souvenir of Weymouth" painted across it
- Fiz from Coronation Street, lightly oiled*
- A mobile ringtone of Jade Goody saying "Shilpa Poppadom" in a fake Indian accent that sounds Welsh
- A nice cup of tea and a plate of chocolate digestives
- World Peace, and Ben Elton's head on a plate**
So: you may now confess. What were you going to send me for my birthday, but were unable to because the Royal Mail do not accept live kangaroos?
* As part of a currently secret plan to take over the world
** World peace negotiable
Meanwhile, at Ducknews: It's Political correctness gone mad
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