What is this thing called, love?

My admiration of Benny Hill will never wither away. Idiot or comic genius? Does it matter? I love bad taste.

Another ghastly Monday. I swear one of these days I will actually fall over and die instead of getting out of bed. I cannot communicate with words how much I hate Monday mornings. I bet I'm the only one. Nobody understands my pain.

But I somehow managed to get to work. That always brightens my day. I was supposed to wash the floor with Cafer (mmmm-aaaaaaaaaah) but he suddenly disappeared. I was thinking that he had skipped town, leaving me high and dry. Then Bent came and explained. His brother-in-law died a few days ago. He has still not recovered from that. He came to work looking sad and unshaved. I thought it was just a new look for him. We even joked about it at coffee. "Batteries for your shaver run out, Cafer?". Haha. He didn't say anything. He shouldn't have come to work at all I think. But I hope he'll be okay soon.

So no floor washing today. Instead I helped Anker build some wooden platform for a fridge. Words fail me. Anker managed to drop a saw on my fingers and hit me on the head with a stick. I'm not entirely sure he wasn't trying to kill me. You never know. Long workday, sleepy me.

I wouldn't be surprised if he was trying to kill me. You know us Danish folk. We're murderous. In fact Jack the Ripper was half Danish. Apparently. It's strange. I was reading about him a couple of days ago. Giving myself bad dreams. And then the very next day the local tabloid decides to run the story of how he was supposedly half Danish. Like they read my mind. Or saw my bad dreams.

It's interesting though. Let's assume that Walter Sickert was Jack the Ripper (not that it's proven or anything). That would mean that Jack the Ripper had 50% Danish DNA. Now let's remove our scientists' hats and assume that all his killingness was in that 50%. Now I have a hundred percent Danish DNA (if you ignore my family history and the whole Finland thing). In theory that should mean that I'm twice as vicious as Jack the Ripper. I'm sure you can all see where I'm going with this. Case closed.

It's funny how the Danish tabloid states that it's 99% sure that Walter Richard Sickert was Jack the Ripper. While the site I was reading just listed him as one of the unlikely candidates. It's all in the eyes that see. I'm sure all us Danish folk would be proud to be associated with Jack. It all compliments our proud Viking heritage so well.

DNA is great. Clone Benny Hill. Someone should make an amusement park where you can meet dead celebrities like Hill and Jack the R and Marily Monroe and I could go on and on.

You know what else would be fun? A Scottish Darth Vader. Darth McVader. It would be a lot more fun if I knew how to write in Scottish accent. But I imagine something like "Lyc, eye amm joor fadder". No. No no. You'll have to imagine the accent yourself. But I'm sure you can imagine the hilarious fun that would ensue.

I always thought that I would be a great standup comedian. I would be happier the fewer people were in the crowd. I'd suck so much that everyone would leave and then I'd finally feel comfortable.

Right, that's it. Time to do a highspeed chase to the Benny Hill theme and run away. See you tomorrow.

np: r.e.m. - e-bow the letter