Dicing With Death

Euan has been risking live, limb and incarceration today, for no reason at all.

Firstly, he called the late, great Ruari Waugh "Waughbag Bawbag" and is now just waiting to have his face punched right off of his head.

Secondly, he started saying on Facebook chat that, in the style of Harold Shipman, he has killed a few old woman. Worse than Harold Shipman is his aftercare service; he sneaks back into the dead womens' houses and cleans up and leaves Werther's Original wrappers everywhere, to make it look like they're still alive.

Thirdly, as if this wasn't enough ridiculous behaviour for one day, he's also written another letter to the council. Here it is;

Dear Council,

It’s me again? Remember me? My son’s ill and is not dead yet!
I know you’ll probably think this is a complaint, but don’t pre-empt me, because this is actually more than a complaint, because little Fraser almost died (and not from his cancer)!

I was in your council hospital recently with Fraser, because of his illness. The council who was dressed as a not-slutty nurse said she needed to change his drip, so I let her. As soon as it was changed, she said I had to pay for it. I was so annoyed at the this idiot council that I pulled Fraser’s drip out and replaced it with the Capri Sun that he was drinking. The council in not-slutty fancy dress told me that it would kill him and then I laughed and said that was the least of Fraser’s worries, because he is going to Hell for being ‘damaged goods’.

Anywhere, could you please tell me where your council workers get the idea that they know my son’s condition better than me? I’d also like some free drip medication (not for Fraser, I have a headache) and could you wash my clothes? When I pulled the drip out of Fraser, it sprayed chemotherapy all over my shoes and this is unacceptable.

Love,
Mrs Fraser
(Euan Menzies)


What can I say? He is an idiot, but we love him.