It was votin' day yesterday and My 'Enry (God rest 'is nadgers) always said, "We 'ad t' fight for the right t' vote"! Which explained why 'ee was always goin' off to those all female mud wrestling bouts...t' make sure that democracy was being up'eld.
So I toggles up me overcoat, got out me Zimmer and 'eaded off f'r the Over 90's club on Lancaster Drive...the place what they always use as the pole vaultin' station on erection day. It used t' be the pubic toilets, y' know? But the local homosapiens were usin' it as a convenience an' somewhere t' shoot up cracks, so the council closed it down an' gave it t' the pensioners instead. We did it out very nice, we did, with lots of paisley cushions and antimassacres an' everythin'. But, t' be blunt, y' could never shift the smell o' effervescence ('scuse my Scottish) properly.
Gettin' back t' me story...naturally I voted for the British 'Ome Stores party, what with 'em wantin' t' get all these evil Muslin nig nogs out of Britain an' get us back to a decent way o' life. They've always been good t' me 'ave British 'Ome Stores an' their toffee fudge goes down a treat!
Any'ow...I got t' the door an' this 'uge great bloke in a pin-stripped suit with an 'Itler moustache wants t' know which way I'm swingin'.
"Mind y'r own business," I says. "What I does wi' me breast is nowt t' do wi' nobody but me an' Dr Patel...and even 'ee can only look at 'em! I won't let 'im touch! You don't know where these Hindustanis 'ave been" Then I looks 'im straight in the eye and I asks, "You ain't one o' those Liberated Demographs, are y'? The ones what wants thespians to 'ave sex in public and paediatricians loose on the streets?"
"No Madam," 'ee replies. "I'm just takin' a poll."
"Aye, well I'll tek a pole in a minute an' shove it up your fat arse y' big Editor's note: Once again, many apologies for taking so long to interrupt this posting. Great Grandma Hughes shouldn't be bothering anybody else before next Monday when I let her out of the closet again.