Today I’m going to address a serious issue. It’s been brought about as a result of a tweet I received yesterday from @JimmyBoi69, who wrote:
‘Morning, my heating has packed up, now what?’
My response was:
‘@JimmyBoi69 Take all of your clothes out of the wardrobe and set them on fire. Tomorrow, I’ll advise on what to do with no heating and no clothes.’
I didn’t hear from @JimmyBoi69 again. Now that’s f*cking gratitude for you.
So later on that morning, I’m going about my businesses when I realise that in my very hand is the answer to domestic heating problems all over the world, and unbelievably it isn’t even the cold fusion device I’ve been feverishly working on, enabled not by my own brilliance in the fields of chemistry and particle physics but the work of Dr Emma Russell, dramatised in the 1997 film ‘The Saint’ starring Val Kilmer. Through the tedious process of freeze framing every section of film where parts of the code were revealed, I’ve been able to piece together the secret to cold fusion and now believe that I’m only weeks away from global stardom and billionaire status.
The people that made ‘The Saint’ are obviously f*cking idiots, because in a straight toss up between making cold fusion and thus enough power to sustain this planet for future generations and making a shit film starring Val Kilmer, they chose the latter.
So, back to the revelation, I’m stood in my bedroom, naked, the heating isn’t on and I’m cold. My hair is wet and I reach for the only domestic appliance I know can deal with the problem, my Babyliss Type S187a hair dryer. As I’m using the Babyliss Type S187a in the capacity set out by the manufacturers booklet, I realise something that hits me like a fast moving locomotive – the technique used by this magical drying machine, is nothing more than the process of heating air. I also realise at this point, that because of my northern dialect and therefore involuntary dropping of the letter ‘h’, my future seminars on this subject will need subtitles, because ‘heating air’ and ‘eating air’ are two very different things altogether. I would also hate to be responsible for elderly people ‘eating hair’ to keep warm.
The heat produced by the Babyliss Type S187a is quite amazing considering its compact size. At one point I tested its prowess on my bare skin at close range and I’m now genuinely considering a trip to the burns unit at Southend Hospital. It was like a f*cking blow torch, albeit turned down a couple of notches, and without the flame.
It occurs to me that we are in the midst of a government conspiracy. This Babyliss Type S187a machine could easily be called a ‘mobile personal heating device/hair dryer/domestic blow torch’, and in my opinion could also be used for a number of other uses i.e. self defence instrument. I can’t imagine many home intruders would want to feel the heat of a domestic blow torch in their face and I feel just as confident about its capability to ward off large dogs. The only downside to this application is the strategic placement of electricity outlets throughout the home. I’m sure common sense will prevail here and you’re not such a f*cking idiot to need me to tell you to place an outlet near any items of value, next to your bed (both sides – the intruder may spot the domestic blow torch on one side and attack from the other), and, one outlet every cable length from one end of the home to the other. The last point is a no brainer, as you have to be able to chase the intruder out of your home. I suggest the use of two domestic blow torches at this point, because the time delay between unplugging from one outlet and plugging into the next one along may be your undoing.
Anyway, the conspiracy being that the Government don’t want to pay pensions forever to old people and want them to die.
I’d really like to explore this further, but I was meant to post this last night but struggled to make a hair dryer interesting (I admit it), and I’m late for setting off to Manchester, a 5/6/7/15 hour journey depending on traffic. Why am I going to Manchester? Mind your own f*cking business.
Michael