#199b: Celebrity Suicide Note - Tristram Spencer

My Dear Darling John,

The belt from your dragon embroidered kimono is over six foot long and made from the very finest fake Korean silk. It hangs perfectly around the hook on the ceiling above the toilet and should hold my body at least long enough to squeeze the life clean out from it. I can no longer take the relentless beating that this world seems so intent on giving me.

But it will not be a straight-forward suicide, you know I'm way too pathetic for that. As fate has so openly gatecrashed my life these past nine months, tonight she will be here on invite. In 2011 I will either be dead or in jail; that's how this rotten saga will end.

The average response time to an emergency call out in Camberwell is eight minutes for the police, ten minutes for an ambulance and seventeen minutes for Verity at a brisk trot. In contrast to that it will take me four minutes maximum to hang myself to death. I have already phoned Verity and in seven minutes will phone for an ambulance and two minutes after that I'll phone the police. After phoning the police I will count up to 240 and then walk to the bathroom, stand up on the toilet seat, put my head in the noose and then step off down into the bowl. Three emergency services will have one minute headstart on my hanging. After that fate can decide if they reach me in time or not. I don't want to die but I don't want to go to prison. I'm sorry for what I've done and if I could change that I would, but I cannot. If I survive I'm not even sure I can live with what I've done. The man I love is dead, and I killed you. And no matter what reasons I had I would give the world just to have you back besides me this and every other night. To have the place set out for the new year and to have plans and dreams together. And now I am crying and it's almost time to go and I don't want to go because really I am waiting for YOU John and I've always been waiting for YOU john and I'll forever be...

Take care everyone.... maybe in another place, a better place, we will see one another again...

The door is open, the locksmiths never came...

Signing off,  Yours forever, Tristy Alan Spencer. X


  1. I hope Verity takes that fucking fish home! I've worried about it for days.

  2. So if it works you will end up dying in a toilet bowl.

    Dignified to the end!

  3. The Real Tristram SpencerJanuary 1, 2011 at 1:04 AM

    Final post in 15 minutes max. X

  4. I read this listening to Schubert:


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