Monday, 4 April 2016

Death by Enyaphile.

I just realised there’s a novel way to commit suicide. You leave a comment on an Enya video on YouTube which says: ‘Not much of a looker, is she? I mean, Lady Gaga she ain’t.’

There are men in this world who would cut your throat after first emasculating you with a rusty razor blade for saying that. You should read some of the sycophantic slop they write. On guy admitted he’d camped out in front of her house on a semi-permanent basis just to get a look at her. And another one wrote:

Enya still play with my Feels.

Heavens! I reckon that anyone who is glad to have his Feels played with would be capable of anything.

*  *  *

And I just caught sight of my face in the bathroom mirror (in spite my best efforts not to.) It’s a reddish coppery colour. I’d quite forgotten that the sun can affect it like that. It’s been a long time.

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