The Death Guide To Voting

Posted by itsdeath on

There are local elections happening all over the country today and, having observed your petty human partisan squabbles over the centuries, I thought I would offer the confused, befuddled and just plain apathetic a guide to voting.

It’s best to think of local elections like the ‘Britain’s Got Talent’ Final, but with the added disappointment of the winning act’s song about rubbish collections stuck on constant loop for the next few years.

I must warn you. There WILL be old people. A polling station is like my waiting room. This cannot be avoided. They are placed there by the parties in order to drive home the futility of existence and break your spirit. Do not be swayed. Engage them in a conversation about cake or Tommy Steele when presenting your polling card.

If Nick Robinson is outside the polling station making a live broadcast, it is considered good luck in many cultures to rub his bald spot.

If you’ve got around the OAPs and not been beaten up by a BBC researcher, you will be presented with a ballot paper and invited to enter the polling booth. Once there, singing “Jerusalem” to yourself in a rich baritone creates the right air of solemnity.

It is traditional to mark your ballot paper with a cross (If you are voting for the BNP this is also known as “your signature”) against the name of your chosen candidate, but writing “LOL”, “AMAZEBALLS!”, “<Your Name> Likes This” or drawing a smiley face are also acceptable.

If you’re taking a while to come to a decision, you are allowed to doodle on the back of your ballot paper and pass it to the person in the booth next to you in a primitive version of Draw Something.

If you are considering voting tactically, you are required by law to shout “You sunk my battleship!” at the top of your voice while in the booth.

Leave the pencil behind. This isn’t fucking Argos.  

Fold your ballot paper (An origami swan makes your vote count double) and place it in the ballot box along with any loose change you may have.

Run to the pub and reflect on what you have done. Practice the phrase “It’s not my fault. I didn’t vote for them.”

Finally, if you ask yourself the question “What would Nick Clegg do?” rip your ballot paper up and return it to a grown up stating “I’m too stupid to be allowed this important responsibility”.

Happy voting!

Damn You Autocorrect

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You know when you wake up on a work day thinking it’s Saturday? Yeah. I do that with entire centuries. “What do you mean it’s only 2012? I was expecting jet packs and a lie in.”

But it’s Friday. You’re almost there. The evening is staring over at you meaningfully, like Professor Brian Cox eyeing up a particularly thought provoking mountain range.  

And Spring is on its way. The London air is filled with the hipster mating call “Frisbee in the park, yeah? I can totes throw ironically.”

Everybody is slacking off a bit today. Including me.

Hence I’m giving you something I’ve already put on Twitter.  

I got this text earlier on:

C’mon. Let him off. He’s old and got *really* big fingers.

Were The Mayans Right About The End of The World?

Posted by itsdeath on

There’s a belief in popular culture that the world will end in 2012.

Certainly, while watching the Roland Emmerich film of the same name, many viewers wished the world would end RIGHT HERE AND NOW JUST TO STOP THE BLOODY TORMENT CHRIST HOW LONG IS THIS FILM AT LEAST IN INDEPENDENCE DAY HARRY CONNICK JR DIED AN EXPLODEY DEATH IN A BALL OF FLAME THAT’S SOMETHING EVERYONE CAN ENJOY.

Anyway, this belief exists because it is said that the Mayan Calendar stops on 21st December 2012. The Mayans, so the story goes, had calculated that this would be the final day of existence. After this day, there would be nothing. A gaping void in the fabric of reality that would last for eternity. A bit like watching the Hollyoaks omnibus.

I’ve actually got my hands on a copy of a Mayan calendar. I show it to you now so that you may draw your own conclusions as to whether the Mayans knew something about the End of Days.

 

Spooky.

A Year In The Life of Death

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It’s that point in the festive season where a large chunk of humanity are blundering around like hungover time travellers, grabbing strangers and yelling “What day is it? WHAT YEAR?!?”

Scattered amongst the empty bottles, chocolate trays and rash promises to never EVER drink again, there is much self indulgence and introspection. And I, for one, am not immune to humanity’s naval gazing.

So, here’s a round up of 2011 from Death’s perspective. Think of it as like one of those episodes of ‘Friends’  where they just show footage from previous seasons. Without Chandler’s unnerving yo-yo weight issues.

Weirdly, I made the International Business Times when I was rude about Mick Jagger while a rumour that he’d died swept the interweb.

I made the top spot in a Forbes magazine list! Disappointingly, it was not the Forbes Rich List, but a list entitled ‘The Top 3 Haters of Coldplay’s New Song’.

And one morning, I woke up to this on the Time Magazine website.

Time Magazine? Bwah! Ha! Ha!

The campaign to make Death ‘Time Magazine Demon of the Year 2012’ starts here.

And I got bored and sold the universe on eBay.

My Top Five Tweets According To Favstar

This Blog’s Top Five Posts

The Perfect Social Networking Site

“What Really Happened To The Dinosaurs?”

“How Much Is The Universe Worth?”

“Is Time Travel Possible?”

My 2011 Photo Album

Thank you to everyone who has helped make this year mad and lovely and exciting and I’m grateful to every last one of you who takes time out to read my brain vomit. Even the spambots. Any ideas to make next year madder, lovelier and excitinger would be gratefully received.

Farewell to Two Thousand and Bleurgh. Hello to Two Thousand and Meh.

My 2011 Photo Album

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Secret Santa was a logistical nightmare on the Death Star

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Darth Vader felt his son’s presents

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I’ve got predictive text

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The Snow Patrol Guide to Performing ‘Jazz Hands’

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And All The Girlies Say I’m…

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It’s Christmas. Here’s the Queen doing her Robert De Niro impression.

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WikiLeaks Made a Startling Revelation in the Summer:

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Yoda’s produced a self help book in time for Christmas.

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Masterchef: The Zombies

The Death Guide To Drinking

Posted by itsdeath on

It’s Christmas party season.

Another day. Another vol-au-vent.

Maybe it’s not a hangover you’ve got this morning. Maybe you’re Patient Zero in the Zombie Outbreak.

Yeah. You wish.

What you really need is a strong coffee. So strong that it punches a hole through time to before you started drinking.

I don’t tend to go out drinking any more. The last time I did, a group of rugby players poured brandy over my head and set fire to it shouting “GHOST RIDER!!!” And I can only go out on Halloween without everyone around me feeling uncomfortable.

So I can only really offer this one piece of advice. But it will save you both time AND money.

You’ve been out for a few drinks and you’re going home alone.

It’s their loss. Plenty more fish in the sea. And you enjoy staying up watching DVD box sets in your big, cold, lonely bed. Really.

You want some food and you need to get a taxi back home.

Simply go into a pizza takeway, order a pizza for home delivery and then hitch a lift with the delivery man to your house.

Sorted.

Ask Death Christmas Special

Posted by itsdeath on

Q. So being a gay boi myself. Does that mean death will take more pleasure in taking me ? – Daniel Langrish

A. Not at all. I’ve been around the block a few times. In fact, I remember back when before the block was built and it were all fields around here. What I’ve learned, and what humanity needs to realise and be reminded of at this time of year, is that no matter what your race, religion, gender or sexual orientation, you’re all as insignificant as each other.

Q. Should brie be eaten in a sandwich with grapes, or bacon? – Gobtastic

A. Crisps. The crisp sandwich is one of humanity’s crowning achievements.

Q. Anybody deserving on the Christmas list? – eversotired

A. Due to cutbacks, we’re actually going to just start using Santa’s Naughty/Nice list to work out where you all go in the Afterlife.

Q. Is there really a “doggy heaven”? – manattackedby

A. No. But there is a doggy hell. They spend eternity wearing people clothes, being cuddled by Paris Hilton and looking miserable. A bit like this:

Q. Zombies …..do you feel cheated or do you like the chance to sit back rest your scythe and watch the world go to shit (like eastenders but with less moaning) ???? – ian

A. Zombies are great. Cheaper than interns and I’ve just managed to get rid of a job lot on Freecycle. The BBC took a vanload away to be contestants on the next series of The Apprentice. There’s an old Afterlife saying. “If it looks like a zombie and moans like a zombie, it’s probably a zombie. Or Shane MacGowan singing ‘Fairytale of New York’ again.”

This year, the Zombie Christmas Panto is based on the traditional Christmas story ‘Die Hard’. A chorus line of zombies shuffling and singing ‘Nakatomi, Nakatomi’ to the tune of ‘Little Donkey’ brought tears to everyone’s eyes. Well, the eyes that were still attached to optic nerves, anyway.

Q. I have recently purchased my son a Mogwai, we’ve called him Gizmo. Cute as a button he is but I need some help. We let him out of the house and he has rolled in the neighbours cat’s droppings. We can’t get him wet but we can’t not wash him! What should we do? Also he’s becoming very hungry. The dodgy pet store man said not to feed him after midnight but didn’t say when he could be fed again! What time post midnight is it safe to feed him again? – Andrew

A. Unlike an X-Factor winner, a Mogwai is for life, not just for Christmas. If you want to get cat droppings off one, just put it in the freezer and they’ll come right off. As for feeding one, I think the best approach is to buy a plane and then just keep flying back and forth over the International Date Line.

That’s the problem with getting a pet. It’s the hidden expenses.

Q. Do you do anything special on Christmas Day? – Dave

A. Father Christmas and I have a lot in common. We’re both busiest in winter, we both have lists we’re checking twice and we both sneak into people’s bedrooms in the middle of the night. But I’m the better dresser.

On Christmas Day, I have my brothers, the Horsemen, over. I know that, at this time of year, there can be family tensions. The Theory of Relativity states that time runs slower the closer you get to your relatives. But they’re not heavy (especially Famine). They’re my brothers.

We take part in the Advent (Which is the act of shouting at the Christmas commercials on the television). We tend to watch the traditional bank holiday programming. You know, repeats of Dad’s Army (Me: “Met him. Met him. Met him. Not met Pike. Met him. Met him.”) and play the usual party games. It’s fun. Not as bad as playing charades at the Jedi Council on Christmas Day:

Q. Does Pestilence ever do the washing up at your house? – Red_D0g_UK

A. I like to make an effort for Christmas dinner. Four bird roasts aren’t enough for me. I like to put a quail inside a chicken inside a duck inside a turkey inside a goose inside a sheep inside a lion inside a cow inside a horse inside a polar bear inside a shark inside a whale. But it does create quite a lot of washing up.

Out of politeness, Pestilence always offers. Out of politeness, I always let him. And then set fire to the kitchen and start again.

Apple And Alien Invasions

Posted by itsdeath on

It’s a short Guide to Life this week as I spent most of last night updating my iPhone to the new operating system.

To be honest, I’m not sure about the new keyboard layout ‘to reflect changes in modern grammar and punctuation’:


Q. Is there life on other planets? – Paul

A.Yes. In fact, they’re pretty similar to you Meat Puppets. 90% of “alien invasions” are actually lost UFOs. Like most men, the males are too embarrassed to ask for directions so just blow the planet up.

This is probably what would’ve happened if Jeff Goldblum had used Windows in ‘Independence Day’:

Then again, if the film was made today, he’d probably have to do everything through iTunes:

And the Earth would’ve been destroyed while he waited for the aliens’ Bruce Springsteen albums to download.

Q. Where did Unicorns go? Kids reckon turned into whales and live in polar areas. – Lizzieizzard

A. As I’ve mentioned before, they were all trampled on by the dinosaurs when they were practicing their Cruyff turns.

There’ some good news, though. We’re upgrading the universe’s OS. New features will include unicorns, toggling gravity on/off & beer rain. It might take a while to sync.

Q. Why do you take all the good one’s, but leave people like Mugabe, Gaddaffi and Anthea Turner still roam the earth? Cheers – Nettie

Not all the good die young. Look at Ronnie Barker. He was brilliant and he lived to a ripe old age.

Actually, he’s not dead. Because he owed him money, Corbett had Ronnie Barker frozen in carbonite: