Special Guest Blogger: Vincent van Gogh

So lets get this ear thing out the way first, my pal and fellow painter Paul Gauguin says he wants to leave our home and we argued. I failed to convince him with words, so i tried violence and attacked him but Gauguin was a lot better at violence them me and kicked the living crap out of me.
I idolised Gauguin, and was ecstatic when he agreed to move in with me in France. What i didn't know was that Gauguin was a colossal dick.
At first, everything was fine. We merged our finances and even shared household chores with me buying the groceries and Gauguin cooked but hated Arles where we lived, saying he didn't find the women attractive enough.
He announced out of the blue one day that he was buggering off to Tahiti and that was the last straw, i screamed at him, he went out slamming the door so to spite him i cut off my ear which with hindsight is more spiting myself than spiting him but i had a few mental issues not helped by the litres of Absinthe liquor i consumed daily.
After a trip to the hospital, i was put into a mental asylum which is where i put the finishing touches on my most famous masterpiece, Starry Night, and tried to repeatedly kill myself by ingesting my paint and paraffin.
I spent my last few months between hospital and gave the doctor who treated me a painting as thanks which he used to repair the floor of his chicken coop.
My depression grew worse and one day i had enough and walked to a wheat field and shot myself in the chest but unbelievably the bullet missed all my vital organs and i walked back to town and got treated by a doctor but died two days later from an untreated infection resulting from the bullet wound.
The irony is that in my life i sold 1 painting for about £9 but the gun i used to sort of kill myself with sold for £144,000 and my painting Laboureur Dans Un Champ sold for £100m. Too late, far too late.