Euan's Gone

Before I start, the important news is that the 50th post special vlog is all nice and planned and I'm just waiting for Euan to get back from the YMCA, so that we can record it.

Last, and by all means least, Euan is dead. I know I've made light the state of his mortality before, but he is actually dead.

It all started this morning when I noticed there was a sever weather warning on the news;

http://uk.weather.com/severeWeatherAlert

I told Euan and he said, "no, that's just in Angus, we'll be safe". Now, I hate to argue with the dead, but I will here. Angus completely surrounds Dundee. It does. If you look far enough out of Dundee, you're looking at Angus (or the Kingdom of Fife, but nobody wants to look at that). Euan thinks that the slight differences in council tax between Dundee and Angus mean that Dundee will be exempt from rain today. Sadly, he was wrong... so wrong.

He'd been out at uni for a few hours studying (wanking in the library) and decided to walk home. The rain was really heavy by this point and he was only wearing shorts and a shirt, so he wasn't protected from the elements in the slightest.

I got a phone call and saw it was Euan. After ignoring it for the first three rings (play it mean, keep 'em moist) I answered, "Alright dickhead". All I heard was screaming, "Fine, I wont call you names anymore"
"No Paul, I'm drowning."
"well, I did warn you," I answered with authority.
"look at the buoy in the river,"
"It's a big river..."
"JUST LOOK"

So I looked and there I saw a boy... not a buoy, but a boy. Not even a boy, but a Euan. My Euan. I started shouting down the phone at him, for being at idiot and thinking he could take his canoe out in such weather, but there was no answer.

I've not informed the police yet, because they're probably too busy stopping drunk 19-year-olds from driving or putting parking tickets on wheelie bins; but as soon as they're free, I'll give them a ring.

Anyway. I just want everybody to post a "RIP little Manzies" on his facebook wall. Extra points will be awarded to the people who write the nicest little ditties.

RIP Buddy. Why do the whores always die first?!