There's this thing, right, where people are being requested to store their emergency contact person's number in their mobile as ICE (In Case of Emergency). Also, they should keep a card in their wallet with an ICE as a contact number.
Apparently, this helps in an emergency situation, so the Emergency Services can inform the relevant person of the situation.
Luckily, I'm good friends¹ with top rapper and B-movie Z-lister Ice-T. Which is handy, because he's a man who can handle himself in an emergency. Especially if he brings his mate LL Cool J along too.
Not only that, he now appears in my Phone Contacts under ICE Ice-T, so I had to get our other bezzi mate² Vanilla Slice to re-record top pop hit Ice Ice Baby to Ice Iced Tea for a personalised ringtone.
Serial Killers! Drug Dealers! Anacondas³! Emergencies? What emergencies! These guys laugh in the faeces of Emergency and send it fleeing with it's knickers around it's ankles and an unwiped bum!
But I work for that there Aviva, and I've been reliable informed that I should put my emergency number as internal number ----†.
I think not - If I'm in an emergency, I'd rather rely on Mr J, due to keeping his cool in emergency Deep Blue Sea style sharking scenarios. Especially if he's sharking that (j-j-j-j-) Jessie J!
Plus, you get Samuel L. Jackson thrown in for free, which is a bonus is you're fed up with all them muthalovin' snakes on your muthalovin' EasyJet.
That said, I do recall that there John McClane out of Die Hard being on an Aviva advert, telling us not to call him Walter. I'd dial ---- if Aviva have Bruce "wotchew talkin' 'boot Wincey" Willis on standby, ready to assist if I were subjected to a heist at the office Xmas party next month‡. Hah - knowing my luck, I'd get Paul "Don't Call Me Ringo Thomassy Tank-Engine Fat Bastard Controller Edwynn" Starr. Or Freddie Starr, eating my Hamster and somewhat exacerbating the nature of my emergency somewhat as snakes run rampant writhingly on Ringos carriage.
And hopefully not the snakes on his undercarriage, like some Spyder Dijon with 8 cocks, plagueing octo-pussies ladygardens in the shade of their damp wet mossy bush.
Or something.
¹ THIS MAY BE A BIT OF A FIB.
² THIS ALSO MAY BE A MISREPRESENTATION OF THE NATURE OF THE REALITY OF MY ACTUAL FACTUAL ACQUAINTANCES.
³ ALTHOUGH PERSONALLY, I'D PREFER TO WRESTLE WITH RONNI ANCONA, IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN (AND I'M SURE THAT YOU DO!)
† NUMBER OBFUSCATED SO THAT NONE OF MY IMAGINARY READERS START RINGING UP AVIVA TO DEAL WITH THEIR INTERNAL EMERGENCIES.
‡ "I HAVE HAD IT WITH ALL THESE YIPPEE KAY AY MOTHERHUMPIN' ELVES ON THESE YIPPEE KAY AY MOTHERHUMPIN' FILING SHELVES!"
