I'm glad that bone-idle great grandson o' mine is finally out of 'ospital. I don't know 'ow to operate this bloomin' internal machine on me own ('scuse my Yiddish). An' I've bin missin' me late night lesions with that nice man from America what wrote t' me.

"Dear Hilda@Over60's.com" 'ee wrote. "You too can now have a penis extension. Save $$$ when you apply to Auto-Pumps R Us and give your partner a real treat!" Well, my 'Enry might be dead, God rest his cockles, but I've always fancied an extension w'at with me kitchen bein' so small an' it bein' the only room in the 'ouse w'at catches the sun. So I wrote back to Mr Blackmamba an' we struck up quite a friendship. 'Ee reckons 'ee can give me extra sucking power and add two inches to me 'ose. 'Ow could I refuse? I'm sick o' me back going 'cos o' that crappy old vacuum cleaner o' mine ('scuse me Korean). The carpets in this place need all the 'elp they can get. Tiddles ain't gettin' any younger and 'ee keeps depositin' on me hearthrug. Come t' that matter, I'm not gettin' any younger neither, an' 'alf the time I can't make it up the stairs.

Besides, it's only dollars. There's about four 'undred o' them t' the pound Serling or something. So I gets meself a credit card from that nig-nog in Boots ('ee's a rare 'un...'ands and lips all over the place...it's good t' see the community doin' their bit an' givin' 'im a job though...'ee can't be more than fifteen...if 'ee wasn't sellin' credit cards 'ee'd be in a brothel by now) and I'm all set to add thirteen inches t' me girth (they must be sendin' out free boxes o' chocolates with every purchase) when that bloody useless great oaf of a grandson o' mine goes and blows up 'is swimbladder and ends up in hospital.

Inconsiderate long-haired 'ippy! Don't know about poncin' around some ward with glamorous dolly nurses on 'is arms. What 'ee needs is a stint in the army! Put 'im up against the Iraqis as cannon fodder. You don't see any of our brave boys in Karsi complaining about a bit o' tummy rot, do y'? 'Ee's always bin the same though. I remember when 'ee was little and 'ee got 'is winkie caught up in 'is zip. What a fuss 'ee made! All that blubbin' an' tears over such a little thing! Oy! That's enough of that! And now 'ee's fraternisin' with all those male nurses without a care in world about 'ow it reflects on 'is family. Bloomin' gayboys the lot of 'em. And some of 'em are even Pakis. Right...that's enough. Go on...clear off this board until you can keep your mouth shut. Whilst you're under my cyber roof you'll obey my rules and that's all there is to it. I'm sick and tired of your homophobia and your racism and your political ignorance and your stupid complaining about how much better everything was during the war. Why don't you act your age and croak you silly old biddy?

Ahem...apologies for that folks...Great Grandma Hughes has been sent to her room to empty her kafeta. In the meantime I'd like to tell you about the dream I had last night. I was on a beach in Benidorm or somewhere and Catherine Zeta Jones and Michael Douglas were messing around taking photos of each other in their swimsuits. It was really horrible. Michael Douglas looked like an old turkey with a paper mache head and Zeta Jones kept singing Welsh operas and making bleating noises. Anyhow...I noticed that on some the photographs I was in the background minding my own business. Not only that but my image was slightly blurred. Naturally I was most distressed so I'm going to sue them for £1,000,000.00. Well, if they can live in fucking fantasyland and go running to the courts every time their pathetic dream is slightly tarnished then I'm damned sure I can as well.