The Late, Great Insult to Injury...
It is with a heavy heart that I write of the deaths of four of Britain's best-loathed comedians. That they had reached as high as they could and fallen just short of the stars was not to be denied. That they were funny was.
Four lives: intersecting only through comedy, and, in certain cases, through sexual intercourse and the production of new humans. We lost them too soon. Just as we found them.
This appalling tragedy must throw doubt on the existence of a benevolent God, gently distributing lambs and ladybirds through pastures with a beardy smile. It must inevitably lead to images of a diabolical and cruel deity, who snaps the necks of swans for fun, and has been known to neck-rape the needy. "As penises to the wanton gods are we, they play with us for their sport."
Michael J Flexer, also known as "Michael Flexer", modelled himself on the popular character "Top Cat", also known as "Boss Cat" in England for copyright reasons. When he was brutally beaten to death by Officer J. Dibble on Saturday evening, we can only assume that he had refused a direct order from an overzealous officer of the peace. He is another victim of The War Against Terror (TWAT).
Rebecca "Bex" Moss grew ever more quiet and introverted after the birth of her son with a full set of teeth, and hair down to his navel. Friends say she began yowling at the mention of any one of a number of soft cheeses, and that she never rekindled her love of early modern archaeology. Still, archaeology's loss was hermitry's gain. She was found in a pool of her own spittle, the walls of her hovel covered in semi-literate poetry on Sunday morning by David Kelly's family. A spokesman for the family said: "What next? What fucking next?" before weeping like a badly-inserted catheter.
Timothy Butler-Garrett continued his puppetry after Insult to Injury went into hiatus, and soon became famous for his documentary film "Punch and Judi", in which he beat Dame Judi Dench around the head and neck with a flat stick, whilst Maggie Smith and Simon Callow slow-clapped in the background. Perhaps the fame was too much for him. Or maybe it was his habit of combining Afghan Black heroin with Calpol. We may never know.
Nathaniel Tapley was a fiction maintained by the American religious right to discredit both socialism and comedy. What appeared to be his flesh wasd a composite of wax and cobwebs, and his speech was synthesised from garbled Brasseye quotations, and prtentious moralising. Apparently caught in a rainstorm yesterday evening, he short-circuited at Redhill station, setting fire to an old woman with the shower of sparks from his back.
Thus passeth Insult to Injury. Let us spray...
Four lives: intersecting only through comedy, and, in certain cases, through sexual intercourse and the production of new humans. We lost them too soon. Just as we found them.
This appalling tragedy must throw doubt on the existence of a benevolent God, gently distributing lambs and ladybirds through pastures with a beardy smile. It must inevitably lead to images of a diabolical and cruel deity, who snaps the necks of swans for fun, and has been known to neck-rape the needy. "As penises to the wanton gods are we, they play with us for their sport."
Michael J Flexer, also known as "Michael Flexer", modelled himself on the popular character "Top Cat", also known as "Boss Cat" in England for copyright reasons. When he was brutally beaten to death by Officer J. Dibble on Saturday evening, we can only assume that he had refused a direct order from an overzealous officer of the peace. He is another victim of The War Against Terror (TWAT).
Rebecca "Bex" Moss grew ever more quiet and introverted after the birth of her son with a full set of teeth, and hair down to his navel. Friends say she began yowling at the mention of any one of a number of soft cheeses, and that she never rekindled her love of early modern archaeology. Still, archaeology's loss was hermitry's gain. She was found in a pool of her own spittle, the walls of her hovel covered in semi-literate poetry on Sunday morning by David Kelly's family. A spokesman for the family said: "What next? What fucking next?" before weeping like a badly-inserted catheter.
Timothy Butler-Garrett continued his puppetry after Insult to Injury went into hiatus, and soon became famous for his documentary film "Punch and Judi", in which he beat Dame Judi Dench around the head and neck with a flat stick, whilst Maggie Smith and Simon Callow slow-clapped in the background. Perhaps the fame was too much for him. Or maybe it was his habit of combining Afghan Black heroin with Calpol. We may never know.
Nathaniel Tapley was a fiction maintained by the American religious right to discredit both socialism and comedy. What appeared to be his flesh wasd a composite of wax and cobwebs, and his speech was synthesised from garbled Brasseye quotations, and prtentious moralising. Apparently caught in a rainstorm yesterday evening, he short-circuited at Redhill station, setting fire to an old woman with the shower of sparks from his back.
Thus passeth Insult to Injury. Let us spray...
1 Comments:
Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated. But so, then, were reports of my life.
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