On three words you never want to hear
I was dragged out of a restful night's sleep this morning by three things: the wife's knee in my back, the insistent beep of my alarm clock and the horror of three words which had taken up camp at the very front of my brain:
* "Amy Winehouse naked"
Hardly the start of any perfect week, what with the events of the last few days - such as the outside of my house finding itself redecorated in a style known as "Early Stalingrad" and Mrs Duck's close encounter with a Final Destination-style hideous demise - but there they were. Those dread three words featuring Sad Amy - the skank's skank - that would make any sane man go off and be sick inna hedge. If I had a hedge.
Of course, there are many, many other three-word groups that pop into your brain at any given time, designed solely to spoil your day, and leave you with the slight taste of sick in the back of your mouth. On the plus side, once published on these pages, my website referrals from a certain kind of internet user* will go through the roof.
The list of DOOM:
- Thatcher's still alive
- Ann Widdecombe's nadger
- Executive breakfast menu
- "Bend over, please"
- Prince Charles up-kilt
- "I play rugby"
- All-day Heartbeat marathon
- Alex Ferguson lingerie
Go on. Spoil my day. Think up more.
* I can always tell when certain celebrities have been on the television when I get at least half-a-dozen hits searching for Sarah Beeny / Kirstie Allsopp / Konnie Huq naked and/or in a bath of beans. Are they ever in for a disappointment