Hey Scully, Take A Memo...

To Movie Lovers Everywhere:
I somehow got talked into going to see ‘Epic Movie’ at the weekend but, mercifully, managed to grab a quick nap in the middle of it. If you’re a big fan of eighty or so minutes of utter p#sh, then this is the film for you.

To My Cousin Ewen:
I don’t know if you still read this but I just have to tell you that I thought your team were unbelievably unlucky to lose to the Cheating Chelski B#stards™ yesterday. Those kids are breathtaking to watch at times (especially in the previous rounds against Liverpool and Spurs) and forget all this talk about Scholes, Giggs, Ronaldo and Drogba; if Cesc Fabregas doesn’t win Player of the Year, there’s no justice. His passing ability (surely the most beautiful skill of the beautiful game) and his movement are the best I’ve seen since Platini.

To Cadbury’s:
Until Friday, I hadn’t tried one of your delicious Creme Eggs since I made myself sick of them in the 80s trying to collect enough wrappers to send off for some mysterious treasure map thingy which was supposed to lead me to some priceless buried golden egg thereby removing the need for me to ever have to do another honest day’s work ever again. Ever.

Not only had I forgotten how difficult it is to remove the foil wrapper (and as a result, how f#cking painful it is to chew said wrapper with your fillings) but I also failed to recall my preferred manner of eating said Creme Egg. (How do you eat yours?) So on Friday I tried the bite-off-top-and-insert-tongue-to-scoop-out-all-the-creamy-goodness™ method. However probing around for the last of the creamy goodness only served to create a vacuum (much like the scenario of getting your big toe inadvertently stuck up the tap when you’re concentrating too hard on a sudoku puzzle during a lavender and thyme bubble bath) and I endured several agonising minutes of intense tongue-sucking decompression, the likes of which I haven’t experienced since… well… och, she's shacked up with Pitt now so... never mind…

The point is, there should’ve been a warning on the deadly foil wrapper. And don’t try telling me that there is but it must’ve been on the bit that got stuck in my fillings. ‘Cause that’s just gonna get me more riled up when I call my lawyers later today to sue yo’ ass. (I still like your Buttons though.)

To Warburtons:
I bought some of your delicious-looking jam-filled pancakes on Saturday and followed your instructions to heat them up in the microwave. However you neglected to warn me that in order to enjoy them after ‘warming’, I would have to execute the Bee Gee Bite™; i.e. the fine art of involuntarily performing the first line of the chorus of ‘Staying Alive’ after biting into a food product ten times the temperature of the sun. I is suing yo ass too.