Just Say No
“Go on. Say ‘no’. You know you want to. Seriously, you do...”
“No. I don’t”
“Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ha ha ha, you just said it. You
just said ‘no!’”
"No I d.... bu99er."
Today it’s Just Say No Friday. It’s a bit like that really
rubbish song sung by the cast of Grange Hill back in 1986. You
know the one. It was rubbish. Apparently it was about drugs
which, as we all know, are really bad and something you should
definitely say no to. Unless you’re at Glastonbury or in
Brixton or on the moon. Then it’s OK. Unless you die.
Anyway…the point is that today is the day to say no. (No it
isn’t). (No, that’s not true).
Now, obviously there are some exceptions. You can’t just go
round saying “no” to EVERYTHING. That would be, like, really
mad. So, see if you can spot which one is the exception from
the cleverly devised test below:
- Do you fancy being burnt by a lighter?
- Would you like a pint of Pernod?
- Isn’t Hitler great?
- Weren’t Babylon Zoo a really good band?
- Would you like to be the (only) male part in Lesb£ans Go
Nuts Part 3?
I think you know the answer. Apparently Hitler gave money to
charity and made a good salmon mousse. You know what we’re
saying! Is the Pope catholic? No. He’s a Fascist catholic.
But he does like little boys.
Right. If you want to you can stick the special badge attached
to this email on your chest. That way everyone will know you
say no. But do be careful. Avoid wearing it near people at the
end of the evening when they suggest going on for “one more
drink”. You wouldn’t want to say no now would you?
It's errrmmm.... oh, you know....
How are you today? I’m fine. That special ointment is
clearing things up nicely.
Well, it’s just me (Al) today because Matt is on holiday.
However, as you can all see, it’s still time for another… you
know, an…. It’s A… Thingy email. Yes, I’ve spurted into your
(in)box without even pausing to wash my hands first. How very
rude (and therefore clever) of me.
Oh! Hang on. Did I leave the oven on? Hmmmm…. Ah well.
So. Where was I? Oh yes, the old It’s A….. you know, the
thingy email and you are all no doubt wonde… FRIDAY! That’s
it. The “It’s A Friday” email. Yessss, it’s all coming back
Did I make a cup of tea earlier? Where did I leave it?
Yes, so anyway, you are no doubt all wondering what Friday it
is today. To be honest we had a wealth of ideas for this
Friday. There was… @rse, where did I put that list… I know
it’s here somewhere. Oh come ON. I had it the other day.
Maybe Matt took it to… where ever it is he’s gone. Oh, I
can’t remember what it’s called.
Actually, in case you’re interested, Matt just sent through a
holiday update. Now where the sod has that email gone. Oh
this is ridiculo… oh, there it is:THURSDAY
Awaken to glorious sunshine. Go for a run with Stuart in
order to prove the point that, just because he goes rowing
five times a week and doesn't smoke, this in no way means
that I can't compete with him. I was wrong. Massively
wrong. I realised this after 3 minutes.
Proceeded to the pool. It immediately clouded over and
started raining. Stuart fell asleep for the entirety of the
day, only waking for dinner. We got into the lift and an old
women walked in. She said "Mussels tonight then". I presumed
she was talking about Stuart and me. She wasn't. She was
talking about that evening's meal. She prattled on further
"They've got salmon too, but watch out, it has moss growing
out of it and could give you a dicky stomach". Having eaten
the salmon for dinner i realised she'd mistaken bay leaves for
moss. They taste similar.
Anyhoo, enough of that. I’m sure there was something
important I was supposed to be telling you. Errmmm. What
was it? Was it that thing about the fruit? No.
Ah. YES. It’s Absent Minded Friday! Whe-hey. See what
I’ve done there? No. Oh well, not only is it Absent Minded
Friday, but in a STUNNING piece of double-meaning genius,
it’s also advance warning that next week will be Absent Friday.
Neither of us will be here new Friday so there won’t be an
email at all. Feel free to participate by not turning up
yourselves. We’ve already written to your boss/tutor/husband/dog
and they’ve all agreed it’s okay*.
Right then. Have… oh, what’s that thing called…. You know,
when you have an nice time and enjoy something… errm… Ah yes.
Have a poo.
See you in a couple of weeks.
i t h a n k y o u
* PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS IS NOT AT ALL TRUE IN ANY SENSE.