15 November, 2005
The beeb, in a perhaps rather ambitious statement, has declared its own ten fold path to true happiness.
Always keen to try a new fad (a bit like Madonna’s attitude to religion. All of them), I thought I’d apply it to myself.
The 10 steps to happiness
Jim Davidson? Head first?
No, no matter how many times I count them, they still don’t add up to five.
“Hallo Wall, how are you? Hallo? Erm, excuse me, I’m talking to you. Oi! Hey you! Oh forget it.”
And have them cancel at the last minute. Been there, done that, bought the T-shirt, wore it and was sick in it.
Oh, I do. It’s called “hometime”.
There are only so many children in the world and so many knee-scuffing pavements.
Don’t be stupid, how can I make getting out of bed last half an hour? Well, I could try it if you insist, but I’ll have to think about which two days I’ll have to take off.
I walk home through Archway. In the dark. Are you insane?
Half of zero is still… zero, isn’t it?
I’d do a good turn for everyone given the chance. Just give me a meat cleaver and Jim Davidson’s address.
I can smell frankincense now. I think this is God’s way of saying “stop pissing around and do something important.”
Sorry God.
