I don't believe in suicide, without getting to gay about it, I think life is greatest gift you can get, I think we're lucky to be alive. Lucky to have the life I have. I'm a fat, white, Englishman with A penchant for smoking, being awesome and Dancing, What reason would I have for possibly killing myself?
Although there is the time I nearly died, A year or two back I was arse drunk and got into a snowball fight, Naturally I took of my shirt for intimidation purposes. I spent the next three hours walking round the backstreets of East London helping people (Shirtless). In this time the following happened:
- A few people took pictures with me.
- A tramp asked me to buy a bottle of brandy from the shop for him as he was banned (you gotta question the motives of a shopkeeper who won't serve a tramp with money, but will serve a shirtless drunk at 1 in the morning.), Upon buying him the brandy he told me to drink it, I said "No man, you need it more than I do" to which he replied "I don't drink", Obviously I had a look of bafflement on my face and he just said "I need it for a pipe, I'm just gonna throw the drink away, drink it". I drank it and bid the tramp farewell. Wondering where a tramp got the money for brandy and crack.
- I met some Portuguese tourists in the park, they gave me rum and I asked them if they wanted to build a snowman, we built a 7 odd foot snowman and frolicked for a while, I tackled the snowman. They invited me to a bar but I figured I'd be violating the dress code, So I said goodbye.
- I was passing a bar and I saw this nice young lady locking up, I offered to walk her home because in my drunken state I thought it might be dangerous. I walked her home and said goodbye, she gave me a pair of gloves because she thought I might be cold. Nice girl.
- Someone was trying to start their car and was having trouble, so I pushed it for them until it started, they offered me a lift but I declined, I had more work to do.
- Several more snowball fights.
Deciding that I was a little cold, and sobering up I thought it time to get back. Now, I dunno if you ever been shirtless in the snow, but it sure sobers you up. I got back and went to bed 3 hours after leaving the pub. I was clutching my hand which felt like it was gonna fall off. Saeed swears he heard me crying, probably just excess awesome coming out of my tear ducts. My hand went back to normal after a few days, but I still have a strange numb feeling in the tip of my little finger.
Needless to say, no one believed me, All I had was a pair of fingerless gloves and the god honest truth. And why should they, it's a ridiculous story. Then, just under a month later, these surfaced:
So yes, it did all happen, and yes. I am a fucking tit.
So that's the story 'That night Jack nearly died'.
But stay of that suicide gear kids, it's not cool.