My mate, Old Professor Real, Old Pro, has just delivered me his latest creation- hypothesised, drawn, developed, and finally born, in his secret lab somewhere deep in… well, it’s secret.
It’s his sequel to my current bong, Ol’ Sparky. Whereas Sparky uses the latest titanium technology (stolen from NASA by that kid with Asperger’s, who’s off to do ten in the pen across the pond for hacking the Pentagon- who was then mysteriously mugged by an old guy with flyaway grey hair and a slight squint for the classified info), this new bong is simplicity itself. But it is the only bong in the world that comes with it’s own fatwa. The Suicide Bong. The perspex is shaped into a minaret and the brass pipe is a crescent rising to a burning peak. It comes in desert yellow or semtex grey. It’s said to be deadly and is, as yet, currently untested.
Old Pro is looking for a test pilot and popped over to see if I fancied volunteering. The fucking cheek of the cunt. As if I’d risk my life, my livelihood, and my faculties (not necessarily in that order) on a smoking device, which by it’s own admission could kill, is untested, designed by an obvious maniac, which is bound to maim me, or at best fuck me up bad, just to help a friend out. Of course I would, I’m just outraged he finished it last night but waited till today to bring it over.
The truth is I’m a bit tired tonight though. It’s been a hard day. Mrs Muck wanted me to have a good clear out and worked me hard all day. Well, she succeeded, I’m empty. Dirty bitch. I digress, the point is I’m a bit pooped so will be turning in soon. As good as the Suicide Bong sounds, 72 virgins is just a bit much after servicing my wife all day. I’m going to turn in. Night night.
Ps If you want me I’ll be at Salman’s hiding from the fallout (not literally please Mr Ahmadinejad) from today’s blog.