Cold, Cat and Spoon

I am ill.

I have a cold.

Except it is much more serious than that.

This is the kind of cold that wiped out the dinosaurs.

Not many people know that the dinosaurs were wiped out by a cold, but they were. Trust me. I was there. Seriously, have you ever had a bad cold before? It is like having death tap dancing on your chest. Massaging your throat with his scythe...

Sometime I want to saw my own head off to make it stop, but just as I get hold of the saw, a coughing fit starts and I end up chopping chunks out of the kitchen and dismembering the cat.

This raises all sorts of important questions. Why is there a saw in the kitchen? The answer is simple. When we order a crusty loaf, we don't ponce about. Why is there a cat in the kitchen? Well, we ran out of crusty loaf.

Cats do not make very good bread though. Firstly, you need to try and get them in the bread bin. This is not a precision job, as a cat has a surprisingly large leg span when you are trying to get it in a hole that it doesn't want to go in to.

Removing the cat from the bread bin is far easier, if slightly more dangerous. A cat who has been kept captive in a bread bin for a while is liable to pounce at whoever opens the bread bin and give them a lively slap around the face with a claw. The trick here is to get a second person to open the bread bin from behind and, as the cat pounces, give it a fair old swing with a cricket bat. That usually takes the fight out of them.

Chopping your cat into slices can be very difficult if the cat is moving about, and you wouldn't want to nick your finger, now, would you? If your cat is still wriggling, give it another slap with the cricket bat. Now, when you chop your cat, the middle bits tend to run out everywhere. Some people like to freeze there cat first to stop this happening, but I find, if you go quick enough, you can get the slices to a plate without too much escaping.

If it is a cat sandwich that you are making, then the next question to arise is, what filling? For this, I like to use more cat. Think about it for a moment, the cat is already out, if you wanted anything else you would have to go to the fridge or the cupboard. Making sense now, see?

Lop yourself off another slice of cat for the filling and then top it off with a nice slice of cat!

The purrrrrfect Cat Sandwich! Or Catwich as I like to call it.

If you didn't freeze your cat, I recommend a spoon to eat it with.

Not that I would know what it is like to eat a cat with a spoon.

I bet you are you dying to know how many spoons we have in our house. Have a guess. No, you're wrong. The correct answer is eight. That is one each, if there were eight people living here. Or two each if there were four people living here. But there isn't. There are five people living here. and that means one of us must go without spoons.

Probably me.

Life is always taking away my spoons. Everyone else in the entire world has two spoons and I have none. I am the boy with no spoons.

I am exactly two spoons short of a full set of spoons.

Did I tell you about my cold?

***All the crap you see written here is Kelvin's opinion and not that of his associates, race team or marketing partners.***

What if Motorsport was Facebook?

I think it your Notifications might look something like this...

Dale Earnhardt Jnr joined the group: Jeff Gordon is gay!

Jean Todt iced Ron Dennis in Mafia Wars and wants you to help dispose of the body.

Max Mosley likes this.

Bernie Ecclestone is now friends with Jean Todt, Michael Shumacher and Tony Soprano.

Kelvin "Rowdy" Hassell likes: When you go into a corner so fast that the handbrake starts to look like a sensible option on Likelicious. Like this link.

Jason Plato joined the group: I can't overtake another car without hitting it.

Fabrizio Giovanardi, Yvan Muller and James Thompson like this.

Robby Gordon and Denny Hamlin joined the group: I can't overtake another car without hitting it.

Vicky Butler Henderson wrote on Danica Patrick's wall:

"Please retire! You are making women racing drivers look bad!"

Ellen Lohr, Desiré Wilson, Sarah Fisher, Katherine Legge, Susie Stoddart and Vanina Ickx like this.

David Brabham updated his profile.

David Brabham changed his place of work from ALMS to Unemployed.

Yvan Muller wrote on Alain Prost's wall

"Just think, you would still be coming second if I raced in Andros Trophy!"

Tony Stewart, Juan Pablo Montoya and Tim Harvey added Mcdonald's, Burger King and Subway to their interests.

Tony Stewart, Juan Pablo Montoya and Tim Harvey joined the goup: I train for motorsport by lifting burgers and walking to the fridge.

Max Mosley changed his relationship status to: It's complicated.

Autosport refused Stock Car Racing's friend request

Autosport refused Drifting's friend request

Joe Blogs wrote on Autosport's wall

"I race in a tiny championship that nobody has heard of, you should write more about me and less about Formula One!"

167 people like this.

MSA Marshals and 6174 friends joined the group: Autosport International is a rip-off and I refuse to go.

You have been invited to the event: Autosport International

MSA Marshals and 6174 friends are attending

Attending: Yes No Maybe

Jimmy Johnson and Sebastian Loeb changed their occupation from Racing driver to Racing God.

The BRDC mugged Bernie Ecclestone in Mafia Wars and need you to sell his watch to pay for the British Grand Prix.

Bernie Ecclestone has turned Donington Park into a field in Farmville.

Danica Patrick likes Media Attention on Likelicious. Like this link.

Motorsport News updated his status:

"The voice of British Motorsport just says "World Rally Championship" over and over again!"

Motorsport News changed his occupation from: Making a newspaper about rallying. to: Making a newspaper about rallying but pretending it isn't.

Max Mosley is in a relationship with Prostitutes dressed as Nazis

Bernie Ecclestone and Michael Schumacher like this

Dale Earnhardt Jnr, Kyle Petty, Danica Patrick, David Coulthard, Ralph Shumacher and Jeremy Clarkson were invited to join the group: I couldn't drive a greasy stick up a pigs arse!

Ben Collins updated his profile.

Ben Collins changed his occupation from: The Stig to: Unemployed

Nigel Mansell wrote on Tiff Needell's wall

"I still blame you for my accident at Donington in the Mondeo."

Tiff Needell "wtf?"

Nigel Mansell "You made me hit the bridge."

Tiff Needell "YOU WERE ALREADY CRASHING, MORON!"

78 people like this

Nigel Mansell "I would have caught it."

Write a comment...

Richard Hammond left the group: Jet Cars are safer than flying!

Colin Mcrae left the group: Flying is safer than rallying!

Ferrari left the group Michael Schumacher is a hero!

Ferrari joined the group Michael Schumacher is an unsportsmanlike cheating kraut!

Ayrton Senna, Damon Hill, David Coulthard and Mika Hakkinen also joined.

Older posts. Edit options.

***All the crap you see written here is Kelvin's opinion and not that of his associates, race team or marketing partners.***

The Truth About Eggplants

With the Daytona 500 just around the corner and everyone talking about the new points system and the resurfaced track, I thought now would be a good time to explain Eggplants.

Firstly we should dispel the myth that the Eggplant was created in the Swiss Hadron Collider on the 19th of September 2007, during a lunch time experiment in which two scientist replaced Proton beams with an egg and a potato. Although an Eggplant was created, it is not the first evidence of the Eggplant.

Nor is it a plant of the family Nightshade, native to Nepal, India, Bangladesh, Pakistan and Sri Lanka.

The Eggplant's story begins one cold winter in 1844 when a potato, two cucumbers and a green pepper, raped a chicken. 9 months later A curious cross between an egg and a plant popped out of the poor chicken's ringpiece. The Eggplant was born.

The following year the Eggplant was propelled into notoriety by inventing the rubber band. However fame and fortune were not good bedfellows for this strange new creation and the Eggplant quickly fell from grace when it was found drunk in the British Museum and broke The Portland Vase.

Months later, the Eggplant had gone completely mad, burning down most of Pittsburgh and destroying a suspension bridge in Great Yarmouth that killed around 80 people. A warrant was put out for the Eggplants arrest but the Police were unable to locate it's whereabouts. Some thought that the Eggplant was killed in the bridge incident but others believe it just went into hiding.

As years went by, more experiments took place to see if any other Egg/Plant combinations were possible. The most successful came in the early 1900s when scientists working on behalf of the Nazi party in Berlin successfully took fertilized eggs of some of the best scientific minds in history and combined them with the body of the most basic vegetable. The result was a super-intelligent vegetable . The project, codenamed "Hawking" was sent to find the original Eggplant. However, Hawking suffered with a lack of communication skills, and was unable to relay it's new found information. Fortunately, the Nazis had ways of making him talk. They added a computer to Hawking, making him the first OmniCyborg. Hawking told them that the Eggplant was indeed, still at large and, furthermore, had begun to reproduce.

Hawking was sent to find the origins of the universe and nothing was heard of the original Eggplant again until 1939. The Eggplant was aggrieved on hearing about the new Hawking Eggplant and was determined to make the Nazis pay. On September 1st 1939 the Eggplant disguised itself as the entire German army and invaded Poland, starting the deadliest conflict in human history.

It is believed that the Eggplant went into hiding again for the duration of the war. Nothing is documented on Eggplants during this time. However, after the war there were multiple sightings. Too many to all be one Eggplant. It was as Hawkin had hypothesised  these were the offspring of the original Eggplant. It transpired the Eggplant had been sleeping with women all across Germany and getting them pregnant.

For years this was excepted as the way that Eggplants were made. Some right wing loonies tried to claim they grow in the ground like normal plants, but this was disproved when the internet began to show us German women copulating and giving birth to Eggplants.

Since the invention of the Internet, Sexual intercourse with a German woman has been excepted as the regular and most common way to grow an Eggplant. The World Wide Web is littered with websites that clearly depict German women giving birth to Eggplants.

It is using educational websites such as these, that has led me to research this subject. I have also learnt that College girls like to relax by having sex with each other after a strenuous pillow fight, and that a shocking amount of housewives answer the door to plumbers, in their underwear.

What is more shocking is that the plumbers turn up within minutes of being called. I have never known a plumber take less than three days to get to me after I call. Even in an emergency. I have put this down to a issue of race. My plumber is Caucasian, where as all the plumbers depicted on the websites are African American.

As Eggplants have become more widespread throughout the world, people have taken to eating them. Eggplants are fairly easy to cook and can be boiled, scrambled, fried or poached. Poaching Eggplants is not recommended as it is considered poor form on the part of the poacher. It is far more acceptable to find your own German woman and create your own Eggplants.

Now, I know what you are thinking!

You are wondering what happens if you plant an Eggplant in the ground!

Well, I shall tell you that what happens is most peculiar. An Eggplant that is planted, fed and watered regularly, will grow into a Chicken Tree. A Chicken Tree grows to a height of about 8 feet and sprouts dead chickens from it's branches. The chickens that grow on the Chicken Tree differ from the regular chickens because they contain no meat. Chicken Tree chickens are now widely available to the food industry and are used in the making of vegetarian and vegan meals.

So there you have it, the wonderful Eggplant. Bastard, inventor, murderer, sex aid, bigamist and concocter of vegan foods.

You learn something new everyday.

***All the crap you see written here is Kelvin's opinion and not that of his associates, race team or marketing partners.***

My shampoo made me think and now I need help.

I was in the shower today when my shampoo got me thinking.

It is not everyday that shampoo makes me think, but this is a special shampoo. Now, when I say special shampoo, I do not mean it contains brain enhancing nano bugs that crawl in your ears and make your brain work. Nor is it medicated for stopping them little blood sucking hair bug things that you used to get in school. My shampoo is special because it is by Frizz-Ease and is supposed to make my gorgeous curly locks look healthy and be more manageable.

I shall read you the quote on the side of the bottle.

"Frizz-Ease Anti Frizz Shampoo for heat damaged hair is especially formulated to make Kelvin's gorgeous curly locks look healthy and be more manageable."

See? Told you.

So, there it is, sitting on the bath tub, parked next to my equally important Frizz-Ease super frizz busting, arse kicking, double hard bastard, show-me-some-frizz-and-I'll-punch-it's-teeth-in Conditioner.

My shower started with the usual ritual of taking my clean clothes to the bathroom and forgetting my towel, returning to my room and going on facebook because I can't remember why I returned to my room, reaching up to turn the light on and catching a whiff of my armpit, remembering that I was having a shower, getting towel and returning to bathroom.

Once in the bathroom, I take a moment to check for caterpillars, pausing only to offer an admiring glance at the enormous turds that our cat, Megatron, has deposited in his litter tray. Seriously, that cat's bum hole must be ruined! I swear, one turd was so big I felt like planting a flag at it's summit and giving it a name.

Once I am satisfied that there are no caterpillars spying on me, I then begin the tedious task of turning on the taps. This might seem a simple task to the uninitiated, but in fact, it is a task that requires a steady hand, intense concentration and surgical precision. Despite the wide arcs of movement offered by both the hot and cold taps in our shower, there is actually only two settings:- Freezing and boiling. Trying to find the fine line between this two points is a bit like trying to iron your pubic hair, both dangerous and tricky. You have to reach through the shower to turn the taps. One moment you think you're dodging molten lava, you move one tap a millimetre and the next thing you know, you're standing in an Arctic hail storm. If you do ever find the sweet spot, don't think it will be there tomorrow. The caterpillars go into the shower over night and adjust the taps so that you can't find it again the next day.

Never trust a caterpillar, they are sneaky buggers.

Anyway, I am in the shower, rubbing my new shampoo on to my hair when I thought, "Why have I bought this shampoo?" The only answer I could think of was vanity. I want my hair to look nice for me and for other people. I don't like frizz. And for that I blame God. He must be responsible because he put that Apple on that tree. He told Eve not to eat it, knowing full well that the only way to guarantee a woman will do something is to tell her not to do it. If it wasn't for God and religion we would all be running around butt naked and I wouldn't have had to buy shampoo. But then, if I didn't buy the shampoo, the poor Australian people that made it would have no money. They wouldn't be able to buy food to put on their barbecue and they would starve and that's bad. We would then have to try and find ways to feed the Australians so we would invent Genetically Modified foods and probably make one massive burger for them to cook that would feed them for, like, ever. But that would have to come from a massive cow. And cows come from other cows so we would have to make two massive cows that could do the sexy time to make the massive cow for the burger. But then they would have to come from massive cows too, so we would have to make more massive cows. Before you know it the whole world would be over run by massive cows. We would be drowning in milk. We would have to make dams out of Wheatabix to try to soak it all up. (There is a top tip there actually. You pour milk over your Wheatabix and it is gone in seconds, so next time you spill milk somewhere, just throw a couple of Wheatabix on it, will clean it up no problem.) Of course, when the burger gets to Australia, they need to cook it. The only thing big enough for that would be a forest fire. The problem with that is all the milk putting the flames out. We would need a Wheatabix wall around the forest before we set it alight. And a bun for the burger. I then started to realise that we would need a lot of wheat. This could prove tricky to grow when everywhere is covered in milk with giant cows marching about so I started making plans on ways to grow wheat on the moon.

And that's about the point when I got out of the shower. As you can see this brainstorm has raised some important issues and has led me to an critical question, to which I am hoping you will offer your insight and help me make the right choice.

Being as it's winter, should I be having baths instead of showers?

***All the crap you see written here is Kelvin's opinion and not that of his associates, race team or marketing partners.***

Kelvin's Bible. Part 1

It has become apparent recently that I do not see the world in quite the same way as many of you. This has made me question some of the beliefs I have and some of the things I do. After much pondering on the subject I have concluded that the only reasonable answer, is that you are all wrong. To this end, I am going to compile a guide to life that, I hope, will help many of you on your slow and tedious journey towards the grave. It should be able to help you make moral judgements and help you to understand the physical world around us. It can also be used for spiritual guidance in your times of need. I am hoping to cover every aspect of life but if you feel there is something I am missing, please let me know, and I shall be sure to cover it in future editions. It will include many quotes from me as well as other heroes of the universe, be sure you heed our words well.

Good luck with your life!

"The Devil is in the detail!" :- Satan 6A.D

When dealing with life, small things are as important as big ones. And it is the small things that you face day to day. We could of started this blog off talking about God and the universe but there is not a lot of point. You see, God and the universe is great, but in a minute you will be making a cup of tea. God and the universe will still be there when you have finished, but the tea making is imminent. It is only a small thing, but you face it every day, so it is important to sort it out. There are many small things to sort out, save the big things for later.

TEA

Since we are on the subject of tea, lets deal with it first. The most important thing to remember here is that black cups are wrong. It has been scientifically proven by me that black cups contain a secret, previously unknown molecule, that reacts with tea to make it taste funny. Black cups should be used for show and not actually drunk out of. Not much is known about this molecule but the widely excepted theory is that it was put into the cups by aliens. No one is sure at what point in the cups life this happens but we suspect it is when the cup is being created, because no one really knows how black cups are made...

Each cup of tea requires AT LEAST one teabag. To ask a teabag to make more than one cup of tea is to put that tea bag beyond the call of duty. Every time you move a teabag to a second cup, an Angel dies. You will be punished by God at the final reckoning.

Milk goes in after tea because Angels are better than cows.

Pound Land does not sell tea bags. It sells imitation tea bags that are actually made out of ground up kittens that they stole from orphaned children last Christmas time. Fact. Only use quality tea bags from a brand you can trust.

FOOD

Everybody has problems with this subject because there are so many ideas and theory's on what is right and wrong and what is good for you and what isn't. It is easier when you break it down to dealing with food over a week, rather than your daily intake.

There are four main food groups:- Breakfast, Pizza, Chocolate and Other.

Breakfast.

Breakfast is anything you eat between four in the morning and two in the afternoon. Anything before this time is either a midnight snack, or something you bought from the Kebab shop on the way home from the club to cure your impending hangover. These are called "Meat Aspirins".

Breakfast should involve at least one animal. If breakfast is to be eaten at a breakfast vendors such as a cafe or a restaurant, and there is bacon on the menu, the bacon MUST be eaten. The pig laid down its life so that you could have a nice breakfast. We do not disrespect the pig by turning it down at the breakfast table. The chicken, he just threw in a couple of eggs, but the pig showed true commitment. We must respect that.

If a fry up is not your thing, you can still get your morning animal in with cereal. Just make sure there is a liberal sprinkling of moo juice over it. Likewise, if your having toast, doctors say there is no such thing as too much butter!

Breakfast is required everyday except Tuesday.

Pizza

Although there is no bad time for pizza, many are confused on which day of our weekly diet we should eat the roundest of our four food groups. Fortunately, Dominos has helped us out by making pizza cheaper on Tuesdays making Tuesday the obvious day to enjoy pizza. Pizzas are wholesome and nutritious and are ideal for the balanced diet as they contain many items from the fourth food group, "Other". Pizza contains many vegetables such as tomato, pepper, mushroom, peperoni and cheese. This means you can get your "5 a day!" in one simple meal!

Pizza can cover a wide variety of items from the food group "other", however, there are some rules. Pineapple is a pudding. It has no place on a pizza. A pizza is a main course and not a pudding. Frozen pizzas are ok if you take them in moderation. A frozen pizza can be used as a stand-in when there is simply no way of getting a real pizza from an approved pizza provider. Pound Land do not sell frozen pizza, the sell imitation pizza that is actually made from the tears of rape victims mixed with the blood of a homeless person. Fact.

Chocolate

Chocolate is the universal food group. It comes in many guises and, despite popular opinion that this is a type of pudding, it can be eaten at any time. Chocolate is good for you because it it dissolves into your blood stream giving you lightning reflexes and super human powers, unfortunately, these only last a short amount of time. However, because chocolate dissolves completely, there is no way it can make you fat. Chocolate comes in the form of bars, cake, biscuits and drink. Only buy chocolate from an approved brand such as Cadburys. beware of cheap imitation chocolate that is made from chopped up war veterans.

Chocolate is eaten everyday except Monday. Double bubble on Sunday though.

Other

Other is food that you eat with less regularity than the previous three food groups. There is too much stuff to deal with in one blog, so, in a future episode of the Bible, I will be offering you some cooking tips on how to make quick and easy meals using items from the food group "Other". Look out for my Sandwich Lite and Pasta Surprise recipes!

***All the crap you see written here is Kelvin's opinion and not that of his associates, race team or marketing partners.***

Why I don't like the Impreza.

Being a race car driver can be very difficult at times. Especially when dealing with meeting people socially. You would probably think that this wasn't the case, but you would be wrong, and I will now tell you why.

The problem with being a racing driver is that everyone with a penis between their legs, no matter how small that penis might be, is also a racing driver.

"Well," I hear you say, "that simply cannot be true because their are millions of men in the world and only a few thousand are qualified to drive race cars!"

That is correct, however, if you show me a human being with a willy and a driving licence, I will show you the greatest driver ever to get behind the wheel. And when it dawns on you that I am right and that this pretentious prick actually believes that he knows anything and everything about the sport on which he is brandishing his opinion with an accompaniment of wild hand gestures, you will turn to him and say; "So, if you so good, why aren't you doing it?" And he will tell you that, even though he earns three or four times what I do and drives a brand new SubaruEvo9GTRSTIWRXSkyline with 41" wheels with 900 bhp, he can't afford to go racing. Otherwise he would have been the best in the world.

You look at both him and me with amazement and I will just nod. There are three reasons for this nod.

(1) He is right, I cannot prove that he is not the best in the world. I can't even prove he is better than I am. Because he doesn't race.

(2) You now understand what I am talking about and why I don't talk about cars much.

(3) Because that was the part of the conversation that I like. Because that part of the conversation happened to you.

You see, the fat, sawn off, egotistical dickwad hasn't finished yet. And you don't get to join in the next bit because only "real" drivers can know what he is talking about.

So I will have to listen to how his car out-handles and out- drags everything on the road, how he had a near miss with the rozzers at 110 mph, how he got the back out at Lottbridge Drove roundabout and a million other shitty anecdotes that I am supposed to be impressed with.

If I am in one of my lesser spotted "bad" moods, they will hear something like; "Buddy, you don't race because your scared. I don't know if that's scared of being beat or scared of being hurt. And I don't f***ng care. If any of my friends are hurt for something you did on the road, I will hunt you down and kill you."

However, in my more common and infinitely more popular "good" moods, I will try to humour them. I can usually do this until they flat out ask me my opinion on a car that I think is shit but they have just spent £30,000 on.

You see, I then have to explain the problems I find with the handling of a car that they don't recognise. They think it is because I don't know what I am talking about but it is, in fact, because when I am testing a cars dynamics, I am driving it at a point in the cars performance envelope that they have never reached. They probably never will. And if they did, how many different cars have they driven like that to compare it to?

The fact is that I am a racing driver. I may not act it, but I am enthusiastic about cars. People find different joys in cars whether it be racing, drifting, showing, cruising and just because there enthusiasm is different to mine doesn't make it any less worthy of my time.

To this end, I am dumbing down today's blog about the Subaru Impreza.

Once upon a time there were two farmers, Mr Subaru and Mr Mitsubishi. They were farming out in Japan when they got into an argument about who had the fastest tractor. Mr Mitsubishi said "I know how to settle this! We will enter the World Rally Championship!" Mr Subaru agreed. Mr Mitsubishi went and found the best technical minds in rallying and the best computer wizz kids in Japan together to form the team that would build his ultimate tractor, the Evo! Meanwhile Mr Subaru was working hard too! He found some five year old children with crayons and made them design the outside of what would become his ultimate tractor, the Impreza! He found an engine out of an old hovercraft that some monkeys from the local zoo fitted to his new tractor design. Mr Mitsubishi used top of the range computer software to select the best roll center location and suspension geometry for his Evo, while Mr Subaru packed up all the suspension parts into a box and threw it at his Impreza, hoping some would stick in roughly the right places.

When the day of the Rally came, Mr Mitsubishi's Evo was awesome but Mr Subaru's Impreza was somewhat lacking so he gave it to Prodrive to see if they could fix it. When Mr Prodrive finally stopped laughing and picked himself up of the floor, he turned some of Mr Subaru's tractors in to pretty decent rally cars. They were given to famous rally drivers to try to win the WRC, but the rest of the shit ones got called WRX's and put in Mr Subaru's showrooms so he could sell them to poor, unsuspecting members of the public, who thought they were buying a super car but, really they were getting a tractor with a nice badge.

***All the crap you see written here is Kelvin's opinion and not that of his associates, race team or marketing partners.***

My death, Love

Do you know what love is? Or how to tell when your in love? Do you really?

I do.

I can see you all sitting there now thinking "Do I? Am I really in love? Have I ever been in love? and what the hell would a promiscuous, long haired, melodramatic racing driver know about it anyway?"

I will tell you what love is as I can see the unsure amongst you are dying to know and I do love the look on peoples faces when they think they have become smarter!

Love, my dear readers, is giving someone other than yourself the power to destroy your life, your confidence, your self-esteem and generally make you feel worse about yourself than you could ever possibly manage on your own.

They can make you feel so bad you want to die. Indeed love is responsible for more deaths in the world than anything else! It is the most destructive force on the planet. More powerful (but closely linked) to its arch nemesis; hate and even stronger than McLelland's Seriously Strong Cheddar.

And they can do it with no effort. A word. A phone call. A look. An in-action. How about that? The act of literally doing nothing can be so painful, so hurtful it could drive someone over the edge.

So you think to yourself in quite a rational way; "Well, if they don't love me as much as I love them then I cannot go on living." It's stupid when you look on it objectively. There are of course many things to live for, I mean, who would pay your tax if you weren't here?

And you do go on living. Because suicide's a bitch.
"Stop cutting your arms!" my house mate screamed, "I've just washed the floor! Can't you kill yourself in the kitchen?"

"Sorry." I say, dabbing the blood up with my sock-coated foot as I head down the stairs.

"Oh no! Your not killing yourself in here!" greets me as I enter the kitchen, "And look at this gas bill! You and you failed suicide attempts! You make a mockery of self-annihilation! Go kill yourself in the bathroom. And do it quietly!"

The door to the bathroom is ajar, so it never occurs to me there might be someone in the shower as I enter the room with my bloody knife glistening under the fluorescent light.
My third house mate screams as I interrupt their nightly teeth brushing session. I chuckle at how much like the shower scene from Halloween this must look moments before screaming like a girl as my house mate stabs me in the eye with their toothbrush.

With my good eye I can see the remains of the other, still attached to the toothbrush as it is withdrawn from my skull. Blood is dripping off it and the nerve is still attaching it to my vacated eye socket. I can feel the blood running down my face, in to my mouth and I am thinking, "This must be the worse case of suicide ever. I can't even kill myself right."

My house mate screams "You bastard! You have got eyeball all over my toothbrush!"
"S-o-r" I cough in bloody spurts, "r-e-y"
"Don't speak!" My house mate shouts, "Your coughing blood all over the bathroom!"

I turn to leave but my absent eyeball, now shriveled and leaking its juices onto the blood stained floor, is still stuck to my house mates toothbrush. The nerve stretches, breaks and whips around hitting my poor housemate in the faces with a blood soaked slap.

"ARGHHH!" They scream in disgust and ram the tooth brush through my ribcage and into the broken heart that got me into this predicament in the first place. I look down with my one good eye and watch the blood spurt around the toothbrush in time with the beating of my heart. The spurts get less as the beating slows.

"yay," I think to myself, "I'm dying."

The bathroom goes black as the pain from my injures fades. But I carry the love that caused them to Hell with me.

That's not how I died by the way, I was just making a point. And my house mates in this world are the best and they would never try to kill me. Not with a toothbrush anyway.

THE MORAL!

Remember kids, love is dangerous. It could easily be you bleeding to death in your bathroom with only one eye and a toothbrush poking out of your chest.

Stick with drugs.



***All the crap you see written here is Kelvin's opinion and not that of his associates, race team or marketing partners.***