#77 Celebrity Suicide Notes - SIR Paul McCartney

Hey John,
don't make it bad
Take a sad song and make it better
Remember NOT to let her into your...

HOUSE coz she'll take your money, career, car and accuse you of things like:

"He proceeded to manhandle me, flung me into my wheelchair and wheeled it outside, screaming to apologise for 'winding him up'."


Really, you know, what does one have to be, you know, to get away with sadistic abuse, you know. D'you know what I mean tho?

Errrhhmmmm, like really, how many Mull of Kintyres does a man have to write like, d'you know what I mean?. But yer know yerself 'ow it is, tho. 'course yer do.

You know, I'm not gonna rake up the past, all the Beatles stuff, you know. In fact, like, musics out the equation tonight. It's just me, nowt else. Just me and a bit of conscience, you know, like guilt. Transcendental meditation ain't gonna help me none here, you know. Maharishi's gone to take a shit. It's just me, d'you kinda know what I mean?

O Jesus, how did it come to this, like? I lose an 'orrible scatty fifty yair old minger and ten years later, count em: T-E-N, an ex porn star with a missing leg is taking me to court wanting even half a frozen broccoli lasagne!. D'you know what I mean? Can yer kinda see where I'm coming from tho?

Well, that was a while ago now, man. I know I should bury it, fold while I've still got a missus who picks the early worm, but something is missing, you know. I feel like an amputee merself, you know, like one of those, wots they called... erhhhmmmm, yeh, you know, mineland victims, right.

It's like the peace of the 60's is over, man, like finished as in finito. It's like them days are so far away that they never really existed, you know. Now a new vibe, kind of a new wave anger is passing through me. Like a spiritual happening thing like, you know, like the old days in the cavern, but with energy turned to rage. It's like I can kinda erupt at any minute, you know, and if I do that I would wish I was dead anyway, right? No?

But it's sound. I've got it figured. It's like what am I now, 68, you know. I'm wearing nappies on stage and still writing Ob Li Di la la songs. I figure, something nasty like is gonna swallow me up any minute, like this kind of organic submarine, yeah, with a mouth, you know, teeth and a law suit, and this video, you know, like “never seen before” you know “Sir paul McCartney on video torturing disabled wife!” Nah, you know yerself how it is, you know, dark, scary, histories waiting to consume you. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

I'm in this dark place right now, like, right at the bottom of the descent, you know, like it can't get any worse tho it is. It's like death is calling, whistling a happy scouse tune, like. There's this kind of escape, I feel it, like death is the door to life, like the ultimate White Album. Well, I'm rambling , but you know that yerself like. I just wish, you know, like I culd 'ave slipped in a few scatty jokes like, you know went out with the famous scouse tickle and all. But i've always been, you know, like a miserable cunt, you know, as mean as fuck and twice as ruthless, like i'd stab backs for pennies and sulk for years over royalties, you know. But tonight, ahhhh, tonight “No More Lonely Nights”

John, My Love, in a moment I will restore my honour in death: Hari kari (could there be a better way?). It will be like returning a little of what I took. You know, like where the Queen back-stabbed me, now I'm gonna give her a prick back. It's like “I've come, now it's your turn Ma'am!”

Well, I think I've kinda said enough, but yer know that yerself, like. It's like time to put the fiddle down, give my loose change to charity and walk forward into fate with a million regrets. I was corrupted John, all the adulation corrupted and poisoned me. The same will happen to you! Adulation will turn you into a monster. Don't forget that, like, and don't forget me. You have always been so non_judgemental, and in my last sentence, you know, my last word, I want it to end on You, for You is all there is that's decent in this world. Without You I would have suicided many years ago. Cheerio, My beautiful Man... Ta rah Ta rah...

SIR Paul McCartney – Champion of the little man.

X I X LOVE X YOU X LOVE X ME X DO X

4 comments:

  1. That was amazing and so fucking funny .... you know what I mean like xx

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  2. When Paul McCartney's mother died his first words were:

    How will we cope without her money?

    When John would leave a crap film halfway through, Paul would stay because:

    I've paid for the full film.

    That's the mentality that gets you into the Sunday Times Rich List Top 10.

    Speaking words of wisdom...

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  3. I find your writings always bring out the most honest disclosures about myself, so here goes.
    I AM BRITISH AND HATE THE BEATLES...there it's out there now.
    I always think its a great shame SIR Paul Macca (the nations grandad) as he was called in the sex soaraway SUN never found his Mark Chapman, at least we dont have to listen to Lennon bleating on about heaven and skys and such utter shit.
    Nick

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  4. @ Wildernesschic: Sound. Sound. You know yerself tho, it's sound. X

    @ Mrs Winthrope: Agreed! It's also the mentality that has one drooling whilst reading the Sunday Times. I've a sneeking suspicion that behind Mr McCartneys sagging doe eyes he is as far right as one can be. He's so far right he's close enough to poke the left up the arse. X

    @ Nick: Yeah, me too! I've never been into the Beatles. They were always the opposite of the spectrum of the music I was into. And Lennon, God... like most artists that knew him, I too find him to be a complete arsewipe. George Harrison seems ok though. nah, scratch that, I hate him as well... almost as much as the nose that played the drums! X

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