Not to be confused with Catholics
On our TV we hear comedians gather in groups and say words about things that we think is
nice for them to get a chance to air their lives in public.
In the newspapers we hear stories about how a child survived cancer and worse and this is his story. His story is a blend of triumph over adversity and faith and trust in science.
I write a blog and in it I divulge personal information and some juicy gossip tht will hopefully titillate my followers into giving me ‘likes’.
At a funeral, a relative gives a solemn eulogy to his deceased relative whom in real life was such a laugh there was never a dull moment.
After the defeat of World War Two the Germans go on to become a leader country in Europe.
After writing this I will rinse my mouth with cider and contemplate the rest of the afternoon.
I will never get away from cathartics.
St Peter – Tell me about yourself, Andrew.
Me- OK. Well I wasn’t that good, but I wasn’t that bad really in all honesty.
St Peter – Too bad My Son. Take the elevator to level H
Me – I punch St Peter in the face (uncharacteristically)
St Peter – What did you do that for. I sent you to Heaven.
Me – Oh Sorry. I thought you meant the other place!
St Peter – Well now I think about it…
Me – Don’t worry mate I’m going. See ya! . Cheers! Bye!
Hiya. Before you turn away from yet another celebrity nose job story gone wrong let me tell you something. This is real shit.
This is my phobia.
My nose will melt (more specifically get eaten by a flesh eating disease or cancer) and I will left with only holes and bit of gristle for a nose.
Wiping my nose would be a whole new experience. And it would look weird. The kind of weird that would get rude people pointing and talking loudly about it.
“He knows what I am talking about,” they would say cunningly grinning behind their hands.
How long have I had this phobia? Who knows! A year I reckon.
I get this feeling of slight pain in my nose and think its the start of a melting disease. I do suffer from some pain of my nose but it’s not a flesh eating disease as far as I know. I just rub on some cream and Johns your Uncle (or Bob).
So it’s like a trapped nerve. It’s there at times and I have visions of me walking down the road hiding my face with a handkerchief while groups of school children snigger and point and abashed parents turn their children’s heads and faces away from the sight of my disfigured face.
A bit like John Merrick I imagine I would live a misunderstood and exploited existence. Paraded on Youtube and the Internet as a freak of nature and a natural wonder I travel the world from one bedroom studio to the next being interviewed by university drop outs making a new career in Internet celebrity. I mix with C and D list celebrities, footballers you have never heard of, chefs with odd gimmicks and tech experts as young as fresh-faced teenagers choosing their examination options at school.
My manager is a doctor turned IT expert turned entrepreneur who I believe is capable of helping me achieve fame and fortune despite my ugly appearance. We keep in touch via skype. my camera conveniently doesn’t work.
But I digress. The more I think about it the more it scares me.
Just imagine that one morning I wake up and my nose is there on the pillow like a huge bogey and I touch the place where my nose was and wince as I poke the top of my soft palate. It’s all too real to me. I can see it as clear as Carla from Corry lying in the road after being thrown out of a moving car.
Next time you blow your nose think of me!
Here are some pictures to get your mind racing!
All images copyright of their respective holders.