Elvis Lives!.......

Hello all, Norman here again. Where do I begin? Things have moved on rapidly since the last, and what I thought was going to be, final blog of Andy Mule. I have been contacted by the police, and it transpires that, that blithering idiot Mule faked his own death! Nobody is completely sure why he attempted to do it, it’s thought it had something to with him thinking he had upset the Catholic church in one of his blogs. He apparently became convinced that the Pope had put a price on his head, and that he was going to be taken out! This combined with his disillusionment at not becoming a top selling author, was enough to push him over the edge. So he concocted this ridiculous plan. Quite where he was going to go, I don’t know. The police told me that he was found wandering up and down Great Yarmouth beach, wearing just a loin cloth, that he had fashioned from sea weed. He was allegedly muttering to himself something about “misunderstood genius”, or some other such rubbish. I of course have been made to look a complete fool, having tearfully read out the eulogy at his ‘funeral’. How could this happen? I hear you ask, what about a body. Well, it seems that once Miss Marple learned of Andy’s disappearance, and suspected death, she didn’t wait for a body to be found, and went ahead and started to organise the funeral. She promised the local funeral director a large some of money, if he would ‘find’ a body to put in the coffin. The coroner was also in on the scam, having been promised a villa in Toremelinos, and they all would have got away with it, if Andy hadn’t turned up on Yarmouth beach. It’s a shame, because it was a lovely funeral, although I did find it a little inappropriate that Miss Marple was wearing a mini skirt and boob tube. I tried to tell her this at the grave side, but I think she was having a little difficulty hearing me, due to the din made by the fireworks display. Anyway, Miss Marple, the funeral director, and the coroner are all out on bail, having been questioned at length about attempting to defraud the insurance company.
But what of Andy? I don’t think it would be unreasonable of me to never have anything to do with that bastard ever again, but we go back along way, and I don’t like to see the poor old bugger in the predicament that he finds himself in. Once he had been picked up by the police, he was sectioned, and taken to the ‘Great Yarmouth home for the immeasurably bewildered‘. He is only allowed visitors once a week, and not allowed to make any phone calls. We are managing to communicate however, because Andy somehow smuggled in his mobile phone. The patients are searched on a regular basis, but he says he has secreted it about his person. I don’t want to think about this for too long really, but it seems to have worked so far. He tried having it set on vibrate at first, due to not wanting to alert the guards by it ringing, but gave up on this because the guards were becoming suspicious when he fidgeted violently, crossed his watering eyes, and yelped every time I rang him. He is now (dangerously in my opinion) using his old ring tone. Now when I call him, Britney Spear’s ‘Oops I did it again’ emanates form his anus. I have told him about that ring tone, but will he listen?…….anyway, he explains this away by telling the guards that he suffers from a rare genetic condition known as, ‘melodic flatulence’ I think he has only got away with it so far, because all the staff are Polish. Thank God for immigration eh? He did make a request to Miss Marple that she bake him a cake with a file inside. She baked a four foot square Victoria sponge with a Lever Arch file in it. Under the circumstances an understandable, but still cruel practical joke!
I have told him that he owes his disciples an explanation, it’s really the least he could do. He has assured me that as soon as he can get access to a computer, he will whack off a quick one. (Blog obviously) This could be sometime, as the only computer he can get his hands on is the one in the Matron’s office. He can only sneak in there late at night, and all the while he has to keep one eye out for the patrolling guards. So expect a posting soon. He wanted me to tell you that he is baring up under the strain of it all, and despite having a Nokia up his rectum, he is managing to walk tall.
Yours Norman.