The Walking Dead(ish)

Remember Keith MacDonald, the Tyne and Wear bus-stop Lothario, busily engaged in increasing the ranks of unmarried mothers in the area for the past 10 years?

He’s back, repaying us for the welfare handouts that keep him in booze and fags by offering a spot of entertainment for a dull afternoon.

Two weeks before the latest fruit of his loins was due to put in an appearance, though he (and his trusty X-box) had decamped several months since, the expectant mother received a text message sent from his phone;

‘Here, its Jason, just tho I would Tel u keith is dead he went on friday.’

This illiterate and interestingly matter-of-fact communication was followed by more:

‘I was getting messages from Keith's Facebook page from someone saying she was his sister, Kim.

‘The messages said Keith had died at his girlfriend's house on Friday night. I got in touch with the police and the hospitals but nobody could tell me anything.’

However, two weeks later, she she had something of a surprise:

‘I got this text from him asking me to be friends with him on Blackberry Messenger. I replied asking him what on earth he thought he was doing.’

As opposed to where he was texting from, perhaps? If I received a text from beyond the grave, I’m not sure I would be quite so calm about it. Incidentally, does this mean that his x-box has been joined by a Blackberry? Nice to see he’s putting his benefit money to good use.

It seems MacDonald faked his own death to avoid parting with any more of his unearned cash than the £5 a week he currently pays for child maintenance; meanwhile, his irresponsibility is evidently matched by his ignorance of biology:

MacDonald denies fathering all but one of his nine children because they have different hair colour to him.

Sadly for the gene pool of Tyne and Wear, this fine, upstanding specimen ‘refuses to have a vasectomy’ – the implication being that it has already been offered at least once.*

I think he might be wise to reconsider that offer, because if this is any indication of how he treats the women in his life, one of them** might just take it into her head to do the job unofficially, so to speak, and without anaesthetic.


Update: thus The Mirror, possibly exercising poetic licence: 'Macdonald claims only one of the kids is his and he has asked TV’s Jeremy Kyle to do DNA tests'. Classy!


*from Burning Our Money: 'The Sun offered to pay for him to have his testicles trimmed, but he declined. Or as the Sun put it, "Slob snip snub".'
**Or, judging by some of the comments, a Daily Mail reader or two.