Blog Name: The Satanic Verses (Redux)

This week I’ve been mostly reviewing my Mission Statement.

To be honest I can’t make horned head nor forked tail of it. I must’ve have written it when drunk. I hate it when that happens. You're smashed, you have a really good idea and you shout, “Somebody get a pen! Write it down! Write it down!” And then you wake up in the morning and it’s utter bollocks!

Here’s what I wrote:

“The sixth angel poured his bowl on the great river Euphrates, and its water was dried up in order to prepare the way for the kings from the east. And I saw three foul spirits like frogs coming from the mouth of the dragon, from the mouth of the beast, and from the mouth of the false prophet. These are demonic spirits, performing signs, who go abroad to the kings of the whole world, to assemble them for battle on the great day of God the Almighty. And they assembled them at the place that in Hebrew is called Harmagedon.”

(Copyright: Lucifer. All rights reserved)

Here’s what’s wrong with that idea:

1.How the blazes am I going to get all that together? You can’t just Google “Dragon” punch in your credit card number and wait for a slabbering beast of doom to be delivered by Fed-Ex. Anyway, dragons are so last millennium. And they cost a fortune to feed. I'm not made of flippin' money!

2. Even if I could get all the bits and pieces together, it’s all a bit lame. I’ve got some serious competition, and well when I wrote that, apart from clearly being off my mash, who was I up against? Goody Two Shoes and his box o’ tricks? Need to up my game. Got Scientology to reckon with now. Gotta be scarier than that. That’s not going to be easy. Aliens, wish I'd thought of that.

3. There are people out there doing far worse than what I wrote on a daily basis. You know who you are, you cheeky monkeys! People wouldn’t even notice me if I tried that old school crap. I’ve even stopped buying up people’s souls. They were giving them up for free. Why bother? And it was an administrative nightmare.

4. What’s worst is that now I’ve told everyone that’s what I’m going to do, they’re like“That’s a bit rubbish” and “You don’t exist” or “Bore off, even heavy metal isn’t about Satan anymore”

5. Even I'm not going near the Euphrates. Are you mental?

6. Harmagedon is now a Gala Bingo.

So here’s what I’m thinking:

1. Do something AMAAAZZZING. Haven’t really thought what yet. C’mon give us a break! This is hard! Will get a quango together to brainstorm.

2. Manifest myself as someone they would never expect it from. Will buy Heat magazine and see whose look I like best. I’m thinking Orlando Bloom. He can sell any old shit and people buy it.

3. Go for Big Brother again. Yeah the queues are dreadful and I’ve been knocked back five times already for not being evil enough, but one day I’ll get in.

4. Try and get in the papers more. I used to get blamed for all sorts. Now? Flippin’ arctic tundra, PR wise. Got to have a strategy. I wonder how much Max Clifford charges?

5. Go for more ASBOs to get my name in the paper. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before Goody Two Shoes next door complains to the council about my hounds shitting on his lawn, so that’s one sorted. And he's doing his nut about the noise and me not taking the bins in after collection day, so that could be another couple. He's so easy to wind up.

6. Gotta look dangerous again. I blame Jack Nicholson and Al Pacino- they just made me look so damn cute! I used to be a contender you know! Oh...I'd get angry but I'm on anti-depressants and they kind of numb things, you know?

Anyway, I should really be keeping the new campaign under wraps. Element of surprise and all that; that’s the ticket.

Thank my old boss this blog is anonymous!