The whole truth
Dear God,
I know I haven’t been in touch lately and I apologise for that.
Anyway, I know you have been rather busy with the war between the Bssghyts and the Rtfdds over on that galaxy in Quadrant 42.
Here on Earth, we are fast approaching 2009 and this is traditionally a time for making resolutions, turning over new leaves and getting drunk.
I would like to ask a small favour. I know people are always asking you for favourable exam results when they haven’t bothered their arses studying, or for their football team to win [like you give a shite about football?] or winning lottery numbers, but this is an altruistic request. I don’t want anything for myself, but I would get a great laugh out of it, and it might improve our lot on the cesspit we call Earth.
All I want is for you to visit a plague upon the land.
I’m not talking about AIDS, or Ebola or any of that kind of stuff, because I would be afraid of collateral damage [that’s what the American military euphemistically call it when they carelessly shoot one of their own!]. What I would like is well within your capabilities, and I think you’d get a laugh out of it too.
The plague I am looking for is a highly contagious disease that has only one symptom – it forces everyone to tell the truth.
I know there will be casualties. There will be the unfortunate men who get asked by their partners "do I look fat in this?" There will be a dramatic failure rate at interviews. The Santa trade will vanish overnight.
But think of the other side of the coin? There will be no more court cases, as the perpetrators of crimes will confess instantly. All those crappy tabloid newspapers will instantly go out of business. But the biggest laugh of all will be the politicians. Boy, would I look forward to elections then!
On second thoughts though, I would have to tell Herself where I really was when I was supposed to be down in the pub.
That could be nasty.
Nah!
Forget I said anything.
Yours humbly,
Grandad
Just as long as I don’t have to write the truth. That would make tax day rather painful. Since I am an antisocial malcontent I don’t talk to people anyway.
I like the idea – but I don’t think it would do me any good – you see I work in the complaints industry and generally just make comforting noises whilst being given out to.
Just think of what I might say if they asked ‘well, what do you think?’
The mind boggles……
By the way – is it the snow that makes your site really jumpy or is it just the computer here?
You can tell the truth now…….
You worried me for a moment Grandad…you didn’t actually post that to Him, did you?
If I had to tell the truth, I’d have very few friends or family left.
Heeey, on second thought…imagine how much more time and money I’d have without them! Go on then, send away. Surely you could simply *avoid* the Mrs after a night at the pub to avoid any questions?
Grandad, what’s going to happen to us all over here in the USA? The whole senate would fall apart (worse than it has already) and we’d have no leadership at all. (not that we’ve had much of that over the past decade or two). You have to think of the fate of the innocent ones over here and worldwide! Did you send it yet? ๐
Jim C – You’re right… it wouldn’t be very good for the blogging world?
Kate – I’d say the complaints indutry would love it. It would be so refreshing telling people that the reason they have a complaint is that the product is a load of shite in the first place? The snow isn’t affecting my machine. It’s a little warmer today, so the snow may stop soon.
Susan and Tricia – Yup. It’s sent. If we all start losing friends and politicians then we know he read it…..
Now tell the truth, Grandad – did you test your plague on the little Englishes on Christmas morning? Or maybe they’re just naturally that painfully truthful (‘oh. I didn’t really want one of those’) ๐
I would like to see the movie, get writing Grandad.
E Mum – Your lot are all telling the truth? Hah! It won’t last! ๐
June – I think it has already been done on a minor scale? I’ll stick to books at the moment, if you don’t mind.