The Kiss of Death

I've done it again. When they say the pen is mightier than the sword, they ain't kidding. Admittedly, I'm not using a pen, but the point remains the same.

I killed Evel Nievel.

I wrote about him below, and he drops dead. I'd like to say I'm sorry to the whole Nievel family. I'm sure that if he's in heaven, he's wowing the angels, or if he's in Hell, he's stunt jumping over the lakes of fire and brimstone and blowing Satan's mind.

I was a bit annoyed by him suing Kanye West, but they seemed to have gotten along eventually (I'm sure a large cash settlement helped the situation).

Anyway, the reason I don't think my writing about him on the day he died is a coincidence is I have a precedent.

When I did stand-up in London, I told a joke about Richard Whiteley. I say joke, it was really just abuse. Here it is:

I’ve gotta tell you, it really pisses me off when people make generalisations about students. Ok, I did sleep in till 1pm everyday. I did eat Pot Noodles and beans on toast. But I never ONCE watched Countdown. The only time I want to look at Richard Whiteley is through the scope of my sniper-rifle. Moments before I send a bullet hurtling through that big melon of his, mercifully cutting off one of his fucking awful ‘humorous’ monologues, sending fragments of brain and skull flying all over those geriatric audience members and messing up Carol’s face with blood. Here’s a conundrum for you, Richard. How are you gonna put your FUCKING face back together?!

To be fair, it's not that funny written down. When I did it out loud it worked better.

Anyway, I wasn't to know at the time that he was on his deathbed. He died a few days later.

I felt guilty. I feel guilty now. I suppose the odds are that someone I joke about will die every now and then, but I'm still going to be careful about who I make fun of from now on. If John Nettles dies, I'm going to become a monk and take a vow of internet silence.

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Speaking of death, why are people always on their deathbeds? If it was me, I'd get up. If someone told me I was on my deathbed, I'd ask to be moved or something. Or have some kind of protective sheeting fitted.

When I'm seriously ill - fuck it - I'm going to sleep in a chair. No-one's ever on their death chair, are they?

Unless they're being electrocuted, I suppose.

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As well as being a Death Omen, I'm also something of a neologist. My latest creation.

Mithanthropy - The hatred of people with lisps

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I might try and kill someone I actually don't like next time.

"Why isn't the Pope pronounced Popey?"