Celebrities are dropping like flies at the moment. Gary Coleman’s gone, Dennis Hopper’s gone. They’re all dying.
If you were a celebrity, you’d be terrified. What if you’re next? This is why Susan Boyle has decided to grab the bull by the horns. Fate might choose to take her next – maybe in a road accident, or maybe by positioning her under a falling piano, or maybe by reducing the amount of food that she can scavenge in her native woodland – but when it does, at least her estate will be in order.
Or at least she’s said what song she’d like played at her funeral, which is sort of the same thing. It’s Nellie The Elephant, by the way. Because Susan Boyle’s crazy.
It’s now been a year since the people of Britain welcomed Susan Boyle into their hearts, then pushed her out of their hearts when she went mental and started swearing at everyone, then made her lose a talent contest to a bunch of dancers, then pretended that they actually liked her all along. The last 12 months have brought Susan Boyle wealth and fame and global recognition and, for the first time in her life, a hairless patch of skin between her eyebrows. But is Susan Boyle happy?
It’s hard to say. Take her choice of funeral song, for example. When we die, we’d like our funeral song to be a special two-hour composition that we wrote ourselves called You Are All Responsible For My Death, that blames each individual funeral guest for our death by listing every single bad thing they’ve ever done to us until they become paralysed with guilt. Because, you know, if we’re not around we may as well make sure that we bugger up everyone else’s life.
But Susan Boyle? Susan Boyle is different. At her funeral she’d like Nellie The Elephant. STV reports:
Her charm and angelic voice have seen her become a global hit but the Scottish lady has managed to retain her down to earth sense of humour, saying she wants to have Nellie the Elephant played at her funeral because: “You’ve got to leave them laughing.?
That’s all well and good, Susan, but what if your body mass and diet kick back and you die by farting so hard that you rupture your internal organs? We mean it – playing a song that goes “Off she went with a trumpety-trump, trump trump trump” wouldn’t be funny at all, would it Susan? It’d just remind everyone of the circumstances of your harrowing death. It’d be harrowing. You’d leave those guests in tears. You’re sick, Susan Boyle. Sick.
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