I don’t want to seem morbid, but it’s always worth thinking about the worst-case scenario in life – death. Okay, so that does seem quite morbid. But one has to be prepared. Therefore, I am advance-publishing my obituary. I’m predicting that I’ll last until next year, however optimistic this may seem. Please delete as applicable.

Minnie Bygott, 1983-2009: The (tragic / fortunate) death of a much-(loved / despised) public figure
It is with deep (regret / ecstasy) that we at (The Times / Daily Mail / Toadstools Monthly) are forced to (admit to the murder / announce the late passing) of the well-known (astrologer / philanthropist / critic / nudist) Miss. Minnie Bygott.

Having lived a relatively dull life until the age of 25, she lived the last year of her life to the absolute fullest. The beginning of the end was her marriage to (Mayor of London Boris Johnson / Comedian Alan Davies / her pet weasel) the day before her 25th birthday. The marriage lasted all of (four / five / ten) (months / weeks / seconds) before breaking down spectacularly: Minnie was forced to watch as her beloved husband was crushed to death in a tragic accident involving a hedgehog, a pair of pliers and some silly putty.

After that, she was utterly inconsolable, barely stopping in her quest for justice until a full four days after the event. After that, she toured the world with brand new hit sensation The (Dancing Badgers / Sliding Wool / Unravelling Napkins), eating her favourite dish of crème brûlée in every country and principality of the world, even including Grimsby.

The highlight of her career came in an unexpected moment: one day, walking through Leicester Square (an area she was generally wont to avoid) she happened upon the person we now recognise as being the biggest wanker in the history of the universe: Russell Brand. Of course, at that time Brand was a national hero – but Minnie’s natural hatred of him overcame her, and she set about poking his eyes out with the 16″ ceramic knitting needles she liked to keep down her knickers. After disembowelling him with a plastic spoon she found in the gutter, Minnie pulled out his entrails by hand, deep-frying them in batter and feeding them to a crowd of waiting albino pigeons.

Of course, Minnie was forced to flee, but the mysterious note she left regarding curtains and the colour turquoise soon convinced the nation that her wanton murder of Brand could only be a good thing. Minnie Bygott was now a hero – not just in Britain, but also Grimsby. Even when she was caught on several CCTV cameras in the act of pushing her most hated colleague over a fifth floor balcony to his gruesome death, the jury failed to convict.

To her friends, Minnie will be remembered as being the (dirtiest prostitute / greatest nose-flautist / slimiest biscuit) ever to live. To her enemies? Simply execrable.

So Gordy has been randomly ringing people up for idle chit chat. Weird. Robert Maxwell used to do the same, in fact – a distant relative of mine once got called in the wee hours to talk about nothing at all – so I wonder if this is a sign of impending financial ruin?

Astonishingly, a significant proportion of seemingly-bizarre government documents are beginning to make sense in the light of this revelation, however ominous. For example, one policy document quotes the following voter survey results…

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When asked whether they subscribed to the theory that abstract political dissonance subjugates the central intelligence criteria of implied consent, participants most used the following phrases:

• 42% – “What?”
• 21% – “Fuck off.”
• 18% – “Sorry, I’ve already got one.”
• 9% – “Can I get back to you? We’re just having dinner.”
• 6% – “It’s not about our Kevin again, is it?”
• 3% – “Mmm. What are you wearing?”
• 1% – “Mr – Mr Maxwell? Oh god…” [dial tone]

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Hmm, perhaps that data might go some way towards explaining why Auntie Sheila just fled the country with a big heavy Northern Rock-branded suitcase, leaving a trail of mixed coinage and traces of cocaine. Who knows?

Now then now then. Thinking about painting part of your house/flat/bungalow/hovel? Yes? Thinking of magnolia? WRONG.

People are far, far too boring in their choice of colours. It’s probably because paint colours are called such dreadful names. Barley. Moss green. Peach dream. Hardly inspiring.

So, some new colours inspired by our national champions: the beautiful people. See if you can guess which colours belong to which bits before you click (sorry, no rollovers. WordPress is too shit – but hey, Perez uses it!).

Paris Pink                                                     Doherty Dire

Britney Brown                                              Boris Blue

Swigging down champers this afternoon, I suddenly realised how very lucky I am. You know, hosed and shod, with plenty of food and booze and a cushty job. What about those poor unfortunates forced to live on the streets? That could happen to anyone. What makes me different from them?

Well, it’s probably because tramps don’t seem to be very inventive, to be honest. Perhaps that’s how they ended up being tramps. They’re always sticking to the same formula: lying in a doorway, swigging down Special Brew. However, that’s got to change. We need to lighten up the lives of tramps. But how to do it? Surely not through misguidedly thrown pennies, or half-eaten sandwiches? No. Through judicious use of Ikea cocktail glasses, that’s how.

Yes, I know, I know, you’re thinking that tramps can’t afford to live a spats-and-cocktails lifestyle. That’s where you’re wrong, my friend. Here, for your delectation, are some brand new cocktail recipes: old classics re-modelled for the enjoyment of tramps everywhere.

Mouldy Margarita

• Wet edge of cocktail glass in a puddle
• Up-end glass into pile of road salt, to coat the edge
• Put in a slosh of Tescos own brand tequila, wait for three seconds
• Add handful of road salt and another handful of dirt
• Enjoy!

Bloody Hairy

• Buy tinned tomatoes, open tin
• Add Tescos own brand vodka
• Optional: a splash of petrol adds a final kick
• Pour into cocktail glass, enjoy!

Yellow Snowball

• Milk cat / dog
• Mix with snow
• Enjoy / throw up

Cool. I’m going to go and be sick now.

Ever been really pissed off? Of course you have. However, enny fule kno that you can’t let it get to you. Swallow the anger, and wash it down with a nice cup of bile. Nobody likes to have their shopping trip / holiday / pagan sacrifice ruined by someone going nuts because a pigeon just shat on their brand new stilts.

Luckily, there are strategies. You know, breathing exercises, squidgy balls, voodoo. The thing is, these are often not enough… personally, I’ve been looking for something to assuage my deep rage recently, and here are a few strategies I’ve found useful.

Mantraps
Why bother going on the rampage in your local shopping centre / high school / clown academy with a shotgun, when you can simply spend days digging holes, carefully placing mantraps in them and then laying twigs and leaves over the top? Even better, keep a camcorder trained on the scene and win yourself £250 on You’ve Been Framed!

Bubble wrap
A timeless classic, bubble wrap is everyone’s favourite. Whether you tersely pop it under your desk or wrap your subject up in it and throw them out of the nearest window into the holly bush twelve floors below, you can’t go wrong.

Ethel Merman
It could all be down to sexual tension. I read a book recently in which the heroine dug a hole in her bedroom wall through a poster of Ethel Merman and shagged it. Obviously this tactic isn’t for everyone, but you could always try it getting it on with someone else. Ginger Rogers, perhaps.

Chocolate
Indulge yourself with a nice chunky bar of the brown stuff – freeze it and gouge their eyes out with it. Alternatively, create your own man-made brown-stuff and shove it through their letterbox. Granted, it’s getting a bit a clichéd now – but classics are classic for a reason.

Take time out
Honestly, how are you supposed to plan someone’s grisly demise if you don’t give yourself adequate time to prepare? Spend the time having a luxurious bath, reading a book or shaving your head, buying a white cat and putting lasers onto your sharks’ heads.

The silent win
Simply wait. Good things come to those who wait. That person probably isn’t just annoying you. They’re annoying everyone. Plus, you get to feel like every minute they spend alive is one you have graciously permitted them to enjoy, because of the excellent sort of person you are.

Planning your hols? Going somewhere nice? Somewhere hot and sunny?

STOP RIGHT THERE. You are BORING. Why go to the usual sun-drenched beach getaway when you could go somewhere truly interesting? Somewhere like this…?
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Kyrgyzstan – Teasmade Revenge’s approved holiday destination of 2008

Why not pop to an impoverished ex-Soviet state landlocked by China? Don’t worry though, the only terrifying thing about it is its national anthem. Honest.

Geography and Climate
Temperatures vary from a sub-tropical 40 degrees celsius in summer to sub-zero for most of the winter – so there’s something for everyone. It’s perfect for budding mountaineers, being almost entirely covered in mountains – and there are loads of fun mud slides and snow avalanches. Most of the water is polluted, making swimming an unusually daring activity. However, the main river dries up before it gets out of the country (Uzbekistan borrows it) so don’t bother taking your swimsuit.

Transport links
There aren’t really any roads, but there isn’t any fuel either, so you won’t miss them. Most people use horses. Luckily, there are trains – two of them, in fact. One to Kazakhstan and one to Uzbekistan. They have an airport, mainly served by government-owned Kyrgyzstan Airlines – proud to be on the list of air carriers banned in the European Union.

Traditions and culture
Sporting activities in Kyrgyzstan include (according to Wikipedia):

• Jumby Atmai – a large bar of precious metal (the “jumby”) is tied to a pole by a thread and contestants attempt to break the thread by shooting at it, while at a gallop.
• Kyz Kuumai – a man chases a girl in order to win a kiss from her, while she gallops away; if he is not successful she may beat him with her “kamchi” (horsewhip).
• Oodarysh – two contestants wrestle on horseback, each attempting to be the first to throw the other from his horse.

Kyrgyzstanis are known for their felt, three-stringed lutes and falconry. Bride-kidnapping is also really popular with one in three women getting involved – men and their male relatives will pick out a suitable female and hold her hostage for days or even weeks, until she either consents to marry him or commits suicide. She will often be impregnated so that she can’t return to her home without being killed by her ashamed parents – fun for all the family!

Politics and political traditions
Leaders are generally corrupt, with politicians often being murdered – so don’t worry about the odd bit of drug smuggling (Kyrgyzstan specialises in opium), because you’ll be able to pay off officials easily. It’s a win win situation! What’s more, what crime there is is generally very well organised.

Kyrgyzstanis love to get involved with politics – they often like to get together and shout political slogans. The police like to get quite involved in these as well. Every now and then, people like to go on huge treasure hunts throughout the capital: generous officials let people make off with all sorts of valuable historical artefacts and then like to hunt them down and kill them.

In terms of strategy, polygamy’s the policy of the future.
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I don’t know about you, but I’ve already packed my bags.