An Inconvenient Truth

I believe that global warming is affecting us all already – I turned on the electric heater when I came home from work and, lo and behold, my room was a lot warmer than it was before. Coincidence? I don’t think so.  If it is happening in my living room then surely it isn’t difficult to imagine an electric heater on a global scale and surely something must be done, because making a plug that big would take a lot of time and money.  Not to mention a suitable socket to plug the plug in to.  It would have to be really big.  So big, that children could wander in there and get electrocuted, which really isn’t ideal!  Someone should think of the children!  Apart from the paedos.  They should stop thinking of the children. Evil bastards.  With moustaches and lop-sided smiles.  Usually.  But not always.

It’s down to our leaders to do something about this.  Write a letter to your MP!  Mail it!  Remember to put a stamp on it first!  What do you mean you’ve already put it in the post box?  You idiot.  Write another letter.  Put a stamp on it.  There you go!  Now mail it to your MP!  I know that the world leaders are just unicyclists on the tortoise of life, but surely we can all learn how to pretend to be acting like we can simulate fish ballet before this whole world disappears under a tidal wave of guacamole?  Actually, no.  That’s silly.  Disregard everything I’ve said, apart from the important bits.  It’s not up to the leaders, it’s up to each and every one of us to make a difference, because we don’t have a world to give to our children if we don’t.  In fact, if the world belongs to the children, then it’s their bloody fault and they should get their fingers out and do something about all this bloody global warming they’re causing by hanging around street corners and shit.  We should listen to the ennvironmentalists. If people don’t listen to environmentalists, then they should just stop talking.  No point in jabbering on if no brother is listening, blud.  Innit?

I was speaking to Professor Bovril the other day and he told me that his sister was going into hospital for a hysterectomy.  I bought him a drink and said supportive words like “girder” and “prop”, but then remembered that he didn’t have a sister and was obviously just trying to get sympathy and free drinks from people like me.  Virgins, that is.  We then got onto the the subject of global warming.  He explained to me that in the summer, the Earth most definitely got hotter and that the sun was to blame.  Armed with this knowledge, I went home and watched pornography, pausing only to sneeze.  Which wasn’t too bad as I already had plenty of tissues to hand.

I went to bed that night, had a rather splendid dream about home made Go-Karts and lashing of ginger beer, but I also had a whizzo idea to save the planet.  I dreamed of a solution for global warming and the simplicity is so simple, it’s almost complicated.  Lots of ice cubes!  Whenever I have a drink and want to cool it down quickly, I pop a couple of ice cubes in the glass and as if by magic, the drink cools down. What we need to do is build the world’s largest freezer and dump tons and tons of ice cubes in the Pacific and Atlantic oceans, therefore cooling them down.  I would also ban people from owning or building greenhouses, as it appears that it’s all those greenhouse gases doing all the ozone thingy, destroying all of the polar bears, which causes the sun to cry, and the additional water from the sun’s tears cause the sea levels to rise. I think.  Don’t quote me on that, those, unless you want to quote me, in which case quote away.

I blame all those irresponsible people with greenhouses.  When will people realise that fresh home-grown tomatoes have a deadly cost?  When will people learn that all of those nice cannabis plants are actually doing people harm instead of making them listen to Bob Marley?  I offer a copy of my brand new novel, “Octogenarian Lobotomy Sex” to the first person who destroys their tomato crop with an implement most similar to a wooden telephone encased in fudge.  Once all of the greenhouses are destroyed, I’ll sell my spleen to the highest bidder, once asleep, so it doesn’t hurt, and then spray lots of aerosols into the atmosphere to celebrate. Whatever keeps a smile on your face, my darling, I’ll do it, even if it includes a pot of honey and your naked mother.

Especially, in fact.

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About A.D.S.

You are reading the musings of a music-obsessed forty-something who was brought up on The Beatles, lived through Britpop and now spends his time in pursuit of the best music around. This 'blog gives me an outlet to write about the huge number of albums I buy and the many gigs I go to. All of the opinions expressed are my own and if you don't agree with me, then I understand - music is a very personal thing. I like to receive comments, especially if they're nice ones.
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