Saturday, July 19, 2003

Bloomin' 'eck ('scuse my Archemedes) it's bin 'ot this week! I've 'ad to remove five of me cardigans and one set o' long johns and I'm still uncomfortable. I blame it on this E.M.U. nonsense meself. They must 'ave regulated the weather or sommet t' bring it line wi' the wops. Next thing y' know we'll be forced to 'ave seistas w'en I'm supposed to be 'avin' me afternoon nap and we'll 'ave to eat straight bananas and keep goats like w'at Mr Belcher from number sixteen does, although in 'is case it's not for milk. If my 'Enry was alive (God bless his rickets) 'ee'd be livid.
Politics ain't like what they used t' be nowadays o' course. These days they're all sexing each others' dossiarses up (dirty buggers, 'scuse my Vulva) an' adjustin' their figures (in public an' all)! Time was w'en we could trust politicians. Like that nice Mr Enoch 'oo warned us all w'at 'ud 'appen if we let the nig nogs into Britain an' allowed 'em t' breed. 'Ee said we'd 'ave pandamonials and 'ee was right! Only last week there was a fire down at the newsagents w'ats run by those smelly pakis. The newspapers tried to 'ush it up but I know it 'appened 'cos it was me w'at started it.
We've even got darkies and homosapiens in the 'Ouses of Parlimentary now! What gives them the right t' represent us decent white folk, that's what I say? They wasn't even born in this country but there they are passin' motions (filthy swine) an' holding their closet meetin's! It's a disgrace I tell y'!
Then there's the vital crime statistics w'at 'ave gone up and come down both at the same time! W'at's that all about? In my day crime was virtually none existant 'cos we still 'ad 'angin' back then. That taught the bastards ('scuse my Colostomy) a lesson they didn't forget in an 'urry. Bring back corporal punishment like they 'ave in America, that's w'at I reckon. It works for them 'cos they ain't got any crime at all over there now. Not like round 'ere where the bloomin' kids keep stealin' Snickerthon bars from the shops an' smokin' pottage down the park. It's gettin' so I daren't go out without My 'Enry's old shot gun. (God rest 'is ballcock.) I 'ad t' shoot three wogs an' a jew last week 'cos they were terrorists...probably...or, even worse, bloody liberals!
I'm an 'undred and twenty-nine years thirteen months, y' know? An' if this heat carries on f'r much longer I'm gonna 'ave t' turn one of the bars on me electric fire off.