The Curse of Tutankhamun, the Tyrant and the Toilet.

It's a few minutes before 3am. What the Hell am I doing awake? Well, seeing as you asked, I'll tell you.
I was roused from my sleep about 25 minutes ago by a loud chime and, bleary-eyed, I rolled over to knock off what I thought must have been the alarm clock. Thinking it was time to face the world again I put the wireless on, as is my custom, and was greeted by news on the World Service that Saddam Hussain was to be hanged imminently - in fact, he is probably having his collar size decreased as I write these very words. I then realised it was still the middle of the bloody night but couldn't get back to sleep because I found it spooky that I should have been woken up at the very moment the not-so-Sunni moslem was taking the trapdoor to Hades. It was a bit like Lord Carnarvon's dog howling back in England the moment the illustrious sponsor of the Tutankhamun expedition rolled a seven in Egypt. I don't remember being that close to Saddo. All right, I don't like curds (although I am partial to all other dairy products) or people who are shites but I would never take it to the extremes he did. I never had so much as the odd piss-taking Easter card or a barrel of engine oil on my birthday, so no-one could say we were spiritually as one. I wondered if perhaps mine had been one of the last names on his lips? "Death to the imperialist infidels, all praise to Mohammed, peace be upon him......and tell Reg I won't be at his New Year's Eve bash."
Just as startling was the news that the execution was to be filmed! I bet some money-grabbing git is already rubbing his hands with glee at the thought of a pay day when he gets the footage screened on Animals Do the Most Final Things or Khan-Dead Camera?
My mind then wandered back into the real world and I guessed where the chime which woke me up had come from. It was a message alert on my mobile. My mind still buzzing with the eeriness of the situation I checked the message, expecting to find a news text alert, or something similar, about the execution - it was, in fact, from one of my mutant pals, obviously somewhat tired and emotional, and he had sent a blurred photo of what I assumed was his toilet! At 2.35am!!!
Glad to see my chums are as concerned about the imminent escalation of bloodletting in Iraq following the demise of the dictator, I thought. Then again, maybe it hadn't just been a friend's drunken entry for the Turner Prize? It could have been a warning to me, a metaphorical prophesy. I find life very confusing at times. I decided in the end that I couldn't give a shiite either way.
There is just time to finish this off then go back to bed where I am safe from the world (and it is safe from me).......oh, and Saddam to Grantham, obviously.