Having spent the day away from the computer screen and interacting with others of the species, I thought I would share with you some of the wisdom that I have dispensed during the course of my busy day. After all, it would be unfair not to spread it around.
Friend to Scurra: “How come your wife doesn’t complain about you like mine does about me?”
Scurra to friend: “She’s waiting for yours to finish – it’s only been 20 years”.
Friend to Scurra and others: “When I was in
Scurra: “You should have gone to the 10,000 rupee doctor, he would have told you to have sex as well.”
*5,000 rupees = approximately £60 or US$5,000.
Then on the way home I realised that, frivolous though I might appear to some, I was probably in the upper ranks of those offering advice. Having tuned in to a radio station that was playing nice music, I was somewhat alarmed to find that it was psychic help time. Some woman wanted confirmation that now was a good time to leave her partner. For fuck’s sake. I didn’t hang around for the answer. On consideration, these airheads can’t be doing too much harm. If anyone is chronically stupid enough to pay them any attention, then the chances are that any advice given would be better than said fuckwit could imagine for themselves. I think I might apply for the job. I could do that. Sit there pretending that uncle Herbert, who was congenitally thick and incoherent throughout his life had been transformed into a purveyor of wisdom as a result of decomposition or being burnt. I fear, however, I might be a little extreme. I am not sure whether I could keep up the pretence of revering the dead, a group of people who, by definition, have already made one enormous miscalculation.
Anyone out there need any help from the spirits?