I like a good joke as well as the next man. [I’m not sure who the next man is, but we seem to be very alike?]
When someone takes the piss out of me, I can laugh.
When someone rapes me though, my sense of humour tends to wane, just a tad.
When I am mugged, I find my sense of humour wearing just a little bit thin.
When someone tries to kill me, I confess my sense of humour has a strange tendency to vanish out the window, and I have even been known to get a little annoyed at that point.
My sense of humour has been put to the test.
All this year, this government can’t decide whether to rape me, bugger me or just mug me.
Being the indecisive cretins that they are, they ended up raping, buggering and mugging me all at the same time.
Now they are trying to kill me with their fucking pig flu.
Oh all right, I know technically the government didn’t start the pig flu thing, but they have caused every other fucking misery, so I might as well blame them for that.
Seeing as there is something like a 30% chance I am going to get that damned bug, I might as well enjoy myself while I can.
I am going to have a party, and everyone is invited. The main sport at the party will be Whack the Cretin. Incidentally, the squeamish had better not come, as I have a feeling there will be a lot of screaming, blood and gore.
When you come, please bring a bottle and your Cretin Of Choice.
Seeing as I am holding the party, I’m going to bring three. Heh!
Bertie Ahern, Mary Harney and that little bollix Gary Lineker.
Any other suggestions?