Thursday, 10 November 2011

COMA TO DADDY












My fellow marketing professionals, my colleagues, my sons, my daughters, my brothers, my sisters, my teachers, my students, my barmen, my barmaids, my sex workers, my care workers, my off-licence sales advisors, my massage providers, my dreamers, my wanderers, my friends.

I have returned from beyond the grave.

Actually, scratch that.

I have returned from beyond Guildford.

I've been in a coma in a hospital in...actually, I won't say where. I don't want the place I was resurrected (no I don't think that's an overstatement) to become a place of worship or pilgrimage. The good people there are professionals and need to be left to do their work, not swamped by an army of panting trollops waving their bristolas and saying, 'You brought Davey back to life - bang my fassyhole off.'

No.

Let's just say I was saved, by special people, in a special place. (If you want to thank them, send me a donation and I'll pass it on. Serious.)

My mother (who is a skanky cunt-wart and deserves to have her fucking knees broken) said 'David has passed away.'

What she should have said is 'David has very nearly passed away, having made a poorly-executed attempt at auto-erotic asphyxiation while a trusted Thai ladyfriend mainlined certain secret remedial substances through a vein in his anus, an activity which broke no UK laws, nor compromised the health or safety of anyone but himself.'

But she didn't. And I aim to find out why.

I also aim to find out the following...

a) Why, after several months asleep, I don't feel refreshed in any way - in fact I've got a bit of a headache,
b) Why my balls are the size and shape of a Tellytubby,
c) Why St Pauls has started operating as a campsite (it can't be that bad, can it?),
d) Why I have only one memory of my time in a coma - a single image in my mind of Nigella Lawson deepthroating her own leg.
e) What the fuck is happening at work and whether I'm still a marketing-leading, market-shaping, market-fucking marketing mastermind.

Actually, I know the answer to the last one. Of course I fucking am!

Why? Because I AM THE CLIENT!

2 comments:

  1. YES DADDY

    FUCKING HELL YES THIS DAY JUST GOT A LOT BETTER SMASH THE FUCK OUT OF IT DAVEY

    ReplyDelete
  2. Smash me back doors in and call me Shirley! What a result, you didn't die!

    ReplyDelete