Wednesday, 10 April 2013

Cheerio, Goodbye!



Elvis did it on the toilet, after a lifetime of fried peanut butter sandwiches.

Tommy Cooper did it on stage on live Television.

Attila the Hun is said to have done it while having sex with his new wife and her mother.

If you don’t know what I’m talking about, it’s death! I know it’s not the happiest of subjects, but it is funny sometimes.

I’ve been thinking about this since I heard of the death of Margaret Thatcher. No doubt people will eulogise and wax lyrical about the so called ‘Iron Lady’, but there will be no tears shed in my house.

She was a typical Tory with no regard for the working class, and the north of England, Wales and Scotland all suffered at her hands.

But it would be undignified for me to gloat at someone death, so I’ll leave it to others to sing her praises.

Major John Sedgwick, in the American civil war, tried to rally his troops by sticking his head over the parapet and shouting, “Don’t worry they couldn’t hit an elephant at this dis…”  and then promptly stopped a snipers bullet with his head.

Edward II had one of the strangest deaths. He was sitting on the toilet when an assassin thrust a red hot poker up his anus!

I don’t know if I believe that story. How did the assassin manage to climb in the privy unnoticed? Then how did he keep his poker red hot? I can’t believe that I just said that last sentence! But you get my drift, don’t you; he would have to keep it burning while waiting for the king to take a dump. I feel sorry for the assassin more than Edward; he had to stand up to his neck in shit while people took a dump on him.
And how come Edward couldn’t smell something burning in the toilet?

A friend of mine who lives on the moors over looking Halifax a small Yorkshire town. Once, sitting on her toilet minding her own business, she felt something tickle her bum (her fanny if you’re in America). Fearing the worst, she peered down the toilet only to be confronted with a large black snake!

If you’re not British you wont understand the amount of innuendo in this story. She quickly flushed it back down the toilet; seemingly it had escaped from a house at the end of her road.

In Britain, 12 people die every year by testing a nine volt battery with their tongue.

One halfwit decided to commit suicide by gassing himself. As the gas filled his kitchen he decided to have one last cigarette, the ensuing blast took out the whole road, but left him intact!

The wonderful Spike Milligan had, “ I told you I was ill” written on his grave stone.

One of my comedy heroes, W C Fields's gravestone is often misquoted, it doesn’t say, “On the whole, I’d rather be in Philadelphia!”

I would like to think when it’s my time to meet the grim reaper, I would have some James Bond type quip to part with. But no doubt my last words would probably be “argh!!” or “What are you doing in here with that hammer?!!”

What ever my last words will be, I hope that they are not for quite some time yet. I have a lot more people to annoy yet!

Now, I had best put the central heating on, before I catch my death of cold!

PS look at the side of this blog and click on the link below my new book ‘Changes’ and vote for it on the peoples book prize. If you don’t I’m going to send the boys around and you’ll be sleeping with the fishes. Yes a free one night stay in the Deep aquarium!


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