The article below has been written for, and chosen for inclusion in, the journal “Notes from the West Country”. But, there have been mutterings from some that it is “inappropriate”, or that it could even be read as offensive, so I’d love your views. Please, tell me what you think? It’s called,
It Hadn’t Been The Best Of Times:
“It hadn’t been the best of times to be fair. In fact, if the truth was to be know, it had been positively the worst of bloody times now that I come to think of it; no wonder I wanted to kill myself.
It all started when my girlfriend left me in something that was rapidly approaching a “huff”, and for no reason whatsoever as far as I could see… or mainly because I had admitted at last, under great duress, that, “yes, your bloody bum does look big in that, now get out of the way of the telly!” Add to all of that the small measure of the dog being on fire, yet again, Q.P.R. having lost to Vauxhall Motors F.C., for the love of all things holy, and Leonard Cohen seemingly on Radio 2 repeatedly, stuck on some never-ending loop with Jeremy-sodding-Vine, and you can see my predicament. And, if that wasn’t bad enough, Westlife were still intent on making a comeback despite my very best of polite death threats scrawled menacingly in crayon! No, it was definitely time to end it all, once and for all and at exactly two forty-five-ish: after all, who the hell would miss me, apart from the dear old lady at The Samaritans who sounded somewhat put out that despite our growing relationship and burgeoning trust garnered over a somewhat tearful three hour telephone conversation, I was still somewhat intent on topping myself? I told her not to cry but she would insist.
“Go ahead then you selfish bastard!” she yelled at me. “See if I sodding care!” A rather novel approach I’m sure you’ll all agree. “Before you go though, can I interest you in a raffle ticket? Money up front obviously, given your current circumstances and intentions.” Apparently the first prize was Westlife’s greatest hits! Second prize was two CDs of Westlife’s bloody greatest hits!
Anyway, basically because I’ve got a word limit, and I’m trying to become disciplined, here are my Top Five Tips – or is it seven? – on how to kill yourself. Be warned though, and I better put this in block capitals to illustrate the seriousness of the situation, PLEASE DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME. If it goes wrong you can really hurt yourself.
1. Hanging Yourself
Always a favourite, especially with those just starting out, the newbies trying suicide for the very first time. Please insure though, that firstly the rope is nice and strong and, preferably, not from Great Mills. The last thing you need, believe me, is for it to snap mid-swing, just as you’re getting into your rhythm, or during that first initial step from either the ladder or off the chair – or, if you’re feeling ambitious, both, it’s completely your choice, don’t let anybody force you into doing something you’re not comfortable with. It is important that the rope’s thread does not, I repeat, does not, rapidly untangle itself, or that the chord just gives way and snaps without warning. It’s a bloody minefield. I know of someone who lost four teeth, dislocated his shoulder and broke his jaw as he was catapulted clear across the room, out of the conservatory doors and into his neighbour’s vegetable patch, just as she was planting those iceberg lettuces she loved so much.
“I don’t know who was more embarrassed,” he told me later.
I suggest learning from my mistake and trying something perhaps a little harder than Junior Aspirin. In my defence, it was all I could find at such short notice – for Jeremy Vine had just informed the nation that Westlife would be on, come what may, after the lunchtime news. On the plus side, they tasted quite nice and got rid of my headache, which was nice, although that started up again after just two bars of “Flying Without Wings”, which, incidentally, gave me a new idea and leads us nicely to tip number 3.
3. Jumping From A Bridge
It does not have to be a bridge. A tall building, for instance, should suffice just as well. Something higher than the frigging ladder you tried on suggestion 1 though.
This wasn’t to be my ideal choice on reflection as I have an abject fear of heights. Just thinking about it is enough to give me a nosebleed.
4. Shooting Yourself
Please be careful, as if you miss it really hurts. On the plus side, I now have a really useful skylight and a lovely parting.
5. Gassing Yourself
Please do not make the same basic mistake I made on my first attempt. In my defence I didn’t realise we were electric, I was there for sodding hours. Didn’t I look stupid when my mother returned home! It was nice and warm though, and I had loads of time to scrub the grill.
6. Throwing Yourself in Front of a Car
Another crowd pleaser but to get this right, for the correct satisfactory results, it is best to know a little bit about makes of car to begin with. Do not do the same as me and casually lob yourself in front of a Reliant Robin shouting “Jeronimo!”* I couldn’t walk properly for a week and the high-pitched voice wears a bit thin after a while.
* For clarity, I was shouting “Jeronimo!”, not the Reliant Robin.
For Period Melodrama Fans or Cleopatra Enthusiasts only, and definitely not, under any circumstances, to be attempted by the sane.
This is for the experts or show-offs amongst us, those who have successfully attempted suicide before and have now got the hang of it completely.
Several problems you may face attempting death by poisoning include the fact that it is now extremely difficult to acquire an asp at short notice, and that when they do finally arrive through the post they ain’t half in a bloody bad mood, hissing and spitting all over the place. It nearly took my eye out.
Anyway, those are my seven top tips about killing yourself. But may I just say, before my word deadline of 1,030 cuts in, that I… Oh, bugger!”