Friday, August 11, 2006

Mortal love

Dear Condoleeza,
Last night at the parlour, I had one of those out-of-body experiences. Or maybe it was out-of-mind. I can't tell. All I'm sure of is that it was out of something. The experience made me think about our friendship.
You see, I was just having a normal day at the parlour: shifting bodies here and there, polishing the know the usual. However, there was just one more body to be serviced. This old woman had been lying in the parlour for more than three days. She had passed away under some very sad circumstances.
This 83 old woman, Miss (we'll come to that later) Martha Stewarts was found dead in her apartment where she lived alone for the last 40 years. Her neighbour, a young lady, mentioned how Miss Martha had always mentioned that she was proposed by several boys in college and some men at work when she was in her prime. However, Miss Martha was what they (between you and me) call a Gold digger. She was loved by many but she never gave her love to anyone with the hope that that the next proposer would be a 'Bill Gates kinda fella'. Well, years passed and time made her once attractive figure turn different. Without the support of her self-proclaimed 'jugs' she was left to herself and 5 for 4 Chicken tikka masala tv dinners from Tesco which she ate every night for 27 years. They can tell from those damned spying value cards. Miss Martha lost everything for the false promise of money. They say recently she got into drugs and used to get something they call 'lds' from an unpresentable young man at the Bingo a go-go! by her place. She supposedly had too much of the nasty mind-bending stuff and died from excessive laughter while watching Teletubbies.
Her funeral service was attended by no one. I stood there for two whole hours and no one came. A sad state of affairs. In my ten years in the business, something like this has never happened. I tried to do the right thing and got her a toy from the show's selection and sent it down six inches with her.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that unless you want to fade out like her, you could always marry me and be saved. I love you on the condition that you don't like Teletubbies since this whole episode has left me jilted. And though I don't know about the wedding, you second-most important day on earth will be taken care of pretty well by me. I have a spare casket that I could spray-paint your favourite colour. Isn't it purple?


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