Tuesday, November 19, 2002

Bowt time too! Thought I was never goin' t' get on the wireless tonight! Bloomin' internet poxy servers an' error 101's...why's everythin' that's supposed t' make life easier these days actually make it 'arder? Thank Gawd (crosses bosoms) my 'Enry isn't still alive. 'Ee'd turn in 'is grave if 'ee was.

Any'ow...I just wanted t' say that I've sent Mrs Fartdust some grapes what I 'ad left over owin' to the fact that Mrs Merryfield from number eighty-nine passed away last night followin' a 'uge bout of flatulence. It's traditional t' send those oo' is ill in 'ospital grapes. I 'opes the daft old Austrian bessom chokes on 'em. Bloomin' Austrians! Where were they in the war, eh? Hidin' behind the French, that's where, waving their 'ankerchiefs an' goin' "Ooh la la" and pocketing other people's money in their nuetered banks.

Speakin' of Mrs Fatpuss, our Darren went into a coma once. Great big place it was what sold hi-fi's and puters and stuff. Bought me a radio 'ee did, with a picture on the front. Very impressive if y' like that sort o' thing. But, try as I might, I couldn't pick up the Archers, so I threw it in the bin along with the fish 'eads and tripe I 'ad f'r me supper that night.

Any'ow...me 'ot water bottle needs attendin' and me 'emmeroids need a pumice. 'Opefully those grapes should reach the Maldives all right and not go sour on the boat across. I would have sent Mrs Faustus a card and all but I couldn't arsed, 'scuse my Lesbian. I'm two 'undred and nine y' know? I can't get round the shops like what I used to. And they've pulled the Co-op down. So 'ave your grapes and be grateful for 'em y' sour faced old kraut!