This is my attempt at a stand up routine which I'll never deliver. Erm, enjoy?
Persona - middle aged man, dead-pan delivery.
Enter stage wearing a santa hat and a massive grin, starts to croon into mike to the tune of The Christmas Song
Both nuts squashing in my ex-wife's hands
Decree-nisi in the post
Heart ripped out and financially ruined
(Grabs hat and stamps on it)
Merry bloody Christmas everyone
Evening all. As you've probably guessed, I'm recently divorced and not entirely happy about it. The first indication I got that something wasn't right with my marriage was when we took the kids to McDonalds and they refused to sell my wife a happy meal. We chatted about it, and she said that our sex life had become a bit mundane. She said we should try something more adventurous like chocolate body paint. I think she was expecting me to put it on her and wasn't happy to find me in bed absolutely covered in it. I thought the more I used the better the sex would be. Had to throw all the sheets out. After that she pretty much went off making love. We came to an arrangement though. I could have it as many time as I wanted as long as I didn't wake her up.
That's the sort of considerate husband I was. I always lifted the toilet seat up, even for a number 2. I never complained about her face. I always used to make her laugh by making witty and clever comments whilst she watched her favourite TV. Strictly come dancing - not this pile of shit. The Apprentice - I see Sid James' arsehole jamboree is on again. You get the idea.
Wasn't enough though. After a few months of struggling on she said she wanted a divorce. I asked her if she still loved me and she started crying. Granted it was crying from laughing so hard, but I had to hang onto something.
So, I moved out and am renting this apartment in a block of flats. According to the landlord the last tenant mysteriously disappeared without paying his final rent cheque. I told him not to worry as given the amount of semen stains on the mattress, in a few years he'll be able to clone him and claim his money back. It's really cold in the building too. At night there's so many teeth chattering like castanets it sounds like a flamenco evening class.
This is my first Christmas on my own and I wanted to cheer myself up by opening some surprise presents. So last week I took a hundred quid out of the bank, drank a whole bottle of gin and walked over to Argos. Judging by the vomit smell coming from the presents under the tree I don't think it's going to be a pleasant surprise.
I've met one of my neighbours in the building. There's an mad old coot who lives downstairs. I saw him yesterday on my way to work. He was standing in his doorway in this ludicrously short dressing gown. It was very tasteful, just short enough to offer a tantalising glimpse of the bottom of his ancient ball sack. He was also covered in budgies. Our very own snow white. The most terrifying bit of all this was when he told me how much I reminded him of himself when he was younger.
Still, some good news. I had my sons over at the weekend. Thought I'd treat them by cooking a chinese. My eldest has become a vegetarian and wanted mock crispy duck and pancakes. He didn't seem to like my alternative of real duck with mock pancakes, which I made by flattening some duck with a rolling pin. I asked my other son if things had changed in the house with me not around. Not much he said, apart from their being less arguing and more jaffa cakes.
Anyway, I've got to go, I'm off to the pet shop to get myself a budgie. Goodnight
