You might be a king or a lowly street sweeper, but sooner or later you dance with the reaper

What was up with yesterday? There was something wrong with it from the moment I woke up. Not in a bad way, just in a Empire Record's Lucas "what's with today, today?" kind of way. I was out at one of my stranger friends birthday’s last night and all was going along as regularly as could be expected, when some random audience participation came along and freaked everyone out. We were at the bank making a withdrawal when these two couple from Essex walked by and the lady said very politely "Excuse me, do you know the way to Bond Street Station". Now we were all fucked, so I think a couple of guesses were made by those of us who gave any sort of shit, and we assumed they would continue on their way. However instead the Essex boy ducked through our little crowd of people to ditch his girl and sit right in amongst us. He seemed comically stressed so we gave him a withdrawal slip and thought that would be the end of it. But no, he just sat and whined about his bitch, who seemed quite nice, while she tried to get him to leave so they wouldn't miss their last train. Eventually she got him standing, and then for some reason, for his final act of defiance he climbed into a bin. It was one of the weirdest things I’ve ever fucking seen.

Speaking of weird things has anyone heard of a song by Anthony and the Johnsons called "I hope there is someone". Now that is fucking weird. I highly recommend it to all though, if you just sit and let it sink in, it's one of the most thoroughly depressing things you will ever hear. If you don't pay it much attention, it'll just freak you out. Either way, it should be in your music collection, but more importantly, I want it played at my funeral. My brother is a rich bitch lawyer and he says that if you say you want something done after your death and make it clear you are being serious then it counts as a will (as long as there is nothing over riding it obviously). So I want that song played, as well as Daly City Train by Rancid, and I want my two middle fingers sent to my two highest ranking arch enemies at the time of my death. And a quiz show in place of bequeaths, the questions to be decided by me nearest and dearest if I haven't got round to making any myself. Hmm.

I'm sure there was more. Not that I’m morbidly obsessed with my own demise, but I do seem to come close to death more often than most people I know. Once I had mad dry mouth and there was no food around so I ate this dry motherfucking biscuit which started absorbing the rest of my precious bodily fluids. It was suggested to me that maybe some gum would solve my problems (after another biscuit had been foolishly added), and before I could respond (it's hard to talk in that state) the gum had been popped in to my mouth. If any of you have ever eaten gum along with other food, you will know if fucks up in a very weird gooey way. In this case in just kinda filled my mouth with sludge, but as I was in posh motherfucking Chiswick I hesitated before spitting out the goo so tried to swallow first but the goo just kind of formed a seal in my throat and made it hard to breath. I went and bought a drink to wash it down, but foolishly bought some Frij Extreme, which is just about the thickest liquid in existence, so one more I made it worse as it just rested on top of the seal. Eventually I just took it like a man and smoked away the problem, but still it just shows how fragile life really is. Or how many times death has tried to kill me that he's resorting to such pathetic crap.

Well I suppose we all have to go sometime. Just not today, I’ve still got so much to do and so little time. I heard that within 30 years they will have invented the technology to stop cells from splitting and therefore making it possible to pretty much live forever. I’d like to live forever, but only for a little while.