To hell in a milk float

Don't try it at home!

 

 

Working my way through the cheery subjects, aren't I? Racism... Suicide... next on the list is an interesting post about the various STDs and how to catch 'em. (That'd make a fair title for an adult book, now I come to think of it! "STDs and How to Catch Them." with foreword by Darren Day. Class!)

Well, suicide. There are three main types of suicide:

1) Suicide for financial reasons,
2) Suicide for romantic reasons, and
3) Suicide disguised as a Guinness record attempt.

Financial suicides tend to do it for silly reasons, like getting into debt, not being able to get into enough debt and not having enough control over their cash flow to bother about whether they're in debt or not. Personally, I don't see why you should commit suicide for financial reasons when you can just as easily join the French foreign legion, (how many wars are you likely to fight in? Exactly.) the dole or the Amish.

Romantic reasons are even more ridiculous, as they tend to occur when people start forgetting where they end and their partner begins, or else because they haven't got a partner in the first place. But people who are likely to kill 'emselves because they're single are likely to be just as unhappy being taken as they were when single. They just don't realise it! Another romantic reason for suicide is due to a basic judgement error, but can be easily avoided by the courtship tactic known as "Not dating Courtney Love".

The main thing the suicide has to think of is "How?", followed closely by "When?". Which is a shame, because if they give "Why?" presidence at this stage they can usually avoid the bulk of the unpleasantness.

"How?" usually gets dictated by such things as "Will I make a mess?" and "How much will it hurt?". Personally, I've always thought the best way to do yourself in is to pop out of an aeroplane - there isn't going to be an awful lot left of you to make a mess after your forty-thousand-foot-or-so drop, the falling is probably fairly painless - and by the time you've hit the ground you're not going to be around for long enough to be concerned with such quintessentially mortal things as pain. The only danger is that, from the second you leave the aeroplane, you have so many thousand feet in which to change your mind! And given the bloodey-mindedness of the average human brain, that's a dead cert.

"When?" is more for people who have such considerations as"Who's going to find me?" and "What'll the bastards do with my corpse when they do?", which is why so many people choose to snuff it in posh hotels wher they know they'll be given a decent funeral "on the house". Although there is alot to be said for doing yourself in during the busy period at a fast food restaraunt too, just for the laughs.

Not many people commit suicide, far fewer than those diagnosed as "Suicidally" depressed, some people because they have a niggling bit of reason inside 'em that says "Well, I'm going to be dead by the end of the century anyway, so there's no point in rushing it", some people because, try as they might, they can't extinguish every last ray of hope they posess, and some people because they want to wait and see who wins the league. Many men refrain from committing suicide because they can't bear to leave their wife behind, and many women refrain from it because they can't decide what to wear.

To be honest, though, I think I could commit suicide fairly easily. Yes, I know it's one of those things where everyone thinks the could but in reality very few people are capable of, like solving a crime, emptying one of those drinking tube things or killing someone. And yes, I may have been thinking too hard about the subject for my own health, but still - I'd be brilliant at it! It'd be a sort of challenge, doing it well. The ideal thing to do would be to time it so you've spent all your money by the time you come to kick it, but the chances are you'd give all plans of suicide the elbow once you get your hooks on the money. And then there's deciding what to leave behind. Do you leace a videogram, a note, or what? And do you address it? And if you do, who to? All in all, it's a tricky business, suicide. I wouldn't reccommend it.

Right, well there you go. Next time, something cheerful, I promise! A nice flowery subject!

 

 

Ant, and when did you get licence to call me "Johhny boy", eh? I mean, I don't shout "You-who, Anty-pantie!" when I see you, do I? I'd like to, but I restrain myself!

Purpley, that technique'll only work with amnesiacs!

Ginger person, alright - get of your soapbox, then! Ginger people are so brilliant, howja explain Chris Evans, then? He's a nasty-looking ginger! So's that 'orrible Laura gal, but you wouldn't know anything about that, wouldja!

Rosie, I spent a score. On one meal. It was four pounds a beer! I repeat - how can you afford to eat there!

Rosie, that isn't morals - that's kindness to dumb animals!

DJ, and there lies the difference between a history student and a history enthusiast!

Shan, you've got it easy! My granparents only heard about the horse and cart last year!

Purpley, oh no! No, no, no! I'm keeping out of it! Don't involve me! Go pester Rosie some more!

Biccy and Purpley, here, in all it's glory, is the Wagamama's leaflet!

 

 

Purpley, you have a rat. Not a gerbil, a hamster or guinea pig, like normal people - a rat! Why? You're not planning to marry the bloke from Harry Potter or something?