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Wednesday 24 November 2010

A celebration of Gillian McKeith

8am - Vegan breakfast (tasteless)

9 am - Screaming

10 am - Revelation that we all have phobophobia is phollowed by pantophobia and general screaming

12 noon - Fainting

1 pm - Vegan lunch (pointless)

2pm - Awarding of doctorates

3pm Ritual of centering (it's all about "me")

4pm - Not waving but drowning

8pm - Invertebrate dinner (spineless) followed by cowardy custard

3 comments:

  1. What happened to the responsorial psalm? You know, the one where Gillian utters some absurd remark or makes a ridiculous pronouncement and Shaun Ryder responds in suitably colourful language accompanied by the waving of incense (otherwise known as ciggie smoke).

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  2. I actually admire her perseverence. All of that screaming and shrieking and fainting, must have given her a real headache, but I haven't seen her pop one single pill.

    Mind you, she seems to like the gas and air (or is it oxygen?

    Whoever locked her up with Shaun Ryder is a master of cruelty - poor Shaun! Having kept her at a distance for days, now she is inflicted on him for two whole days.

    Still, there is a competition among the prisoners for immunity from eviction - If it involves anything that moves or is wet, she will give up and be evicted.

    Good old fashioned cruelty for the masses. It must be a bit like a public hanging, or some of the ceremonies at Husband Cruelty, sorry, Husborne Crawley.

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  3. You forgot Peking duck for supper, aka general quackery

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