It's LETTERS TO THE EDITOR time...letters what I've bin openin' without permission for the last week 'cos Our Brian's not bin feelin' 'imself ('scuse my Innuedoe). An' what a load of old crap 'ee gets an' all. Complaints from the catalogue 'cos 'ee 'asn't ordered nowt! Coded instructions from that left wing paramilitary organsiation what 'ee belongs to. It's all crap ('scuse my Muldavian). 'Ee did 'owever receive this, what I thought I ought t' post 'ere seein' as it looked more important than 'is other rubbish.

Brian,

Sorry about my lack of appearance in both e-mail and on the blog. I was involved in a car accident at the beginning of the month and the fact I have in that time been hospitalised, sued, rehospitalised and also done one of my A-Levels has meant I sort of didn't have any time for blogging. However, I send this correspondence so you can let the lads and lasses know I'm not *quite* dead and that whoever it was that sent the letter bomb didn't have enough postage and that it went back to the sender.

Any'ow the letter drivels on a bit about 'ow the usual payments for nondisclosure of military secrets are 'idden under the third sink along in Brighton Avenue public bogs. And there's a cartoon included with the letter about some soldiers 'avin' lewd thoughts (god rest Our 'Enry's napsack) an' it's considerably better than anythin' that Our Brian 'as ever drawn I can tell y'. And then the 'ole thing is signed by Peter Cooper.
So there you 'ave it an' now y' know. The only other letters Our Brian's 'ad delivered this week are subscription renewels to Sheep Shaggers monthly an' a large turd ('scuse my Convict) in a brown paper bag from somebody calling 'imself Sedgwick. Our Brian, 'owever, 'as asked me to convey 'is best wishes and 'Get Well Soon' messages to Mr Cooper an' 'opes that as soon as 'ee's out o' the 'ospital (or the canteen as they call it in the military) 'ee'll be back where 'ee belongs on this board. I'm an 'undred and seventy-sixty y' know, an' I shouldn't be 'avin' t' do all this wi' my bunions!

Copyright P. Cooper 2003

Unfortunately I'm stoned out of my head on anti-inflamatories, but I still have to earn a living.

The latest Rant of the Week summer wear Skunk Magazine T-Shirt.
Caption reads: "I've read Skunk Magazine...which means that now I'm grown up enough to fuck!"
Go on...impress your neighbours with this cheerful piece of clothing. Just click on the image of the T-shirt above to find out more, or to buy something from the Scrag Ends/Rant of the Week/Skunk/Hughes Industries shop.

The Vice-deputy Editor's Apology


Sorry, I'm perfectly healthy. Apart from this little nausea caused some bawling in this barrack. The former leader of our hut entered in the army chaplain's minutes that nightly somebody sticks something in his ass. Of course, the present leader has protested with highly raised hands, but I think, this play was not by hands.

It seems to me that Hungary has well and truly joined the Free West. Corruption, lack of civil rights, poverty, misery and 'freedom of speech in the full knowledge that nobody's going to listen'. Welcome home, Joe. I'll put the kettle on.

Deputy Editor's Apology

It must be catching. I have been poorly for the past week. Clinically dead (for purposes of the claim on my Life Insurance) for at least 3 days. My normal state is such that no one noticed. The assembled mourners were 2 verses into "The 23rd Psalm" before I appraised them of their Mark Twain like error. (Negotiations continue with the caterers for a refund on monies paid for the prawns and Fosters supplied at the premature wake.)

I believe I am about to relapse. This relapse will have been brought about in no small measure by my foolishly watching our nightly current affairs programme. In the past months we have had 2 British politicians appear on the "7:30 Report" First was a Mr. Mandelson. A first class oily piece of work that one. Then tonight we were privy to the slimy unsustainable justifications inner most thoughts of one Mr. Hoon on WMDs.

What is it with these Pommy Labour pollies? Why aren't they kept locked up in the cellar? Is it just because they are appearing on colonial television that they feel they have to be unrelentingly supercilious?

ENOUGH!

Editor's testiclemony: "I personally blame those two bastards, along with the sight of Prescott's triple chin, for making me so sick today."

Editor's Apology

Haven't posted for a couple of days. This week seems to be a never ending round of g.p.s, doctors, surgeons, clinics and hospitals. The usual run of the mill stuff that constitutes my excuse for a life. More to come yet! (Don't ask me why these things all happen at once...but unfortunately they do.) So, I'll probably be missing for a few more days yet.
In the meantime I shall leave you in the more than capable hands/paws of Deputy Editor Sedgwick and the vice-deputy editor Petrenyi who, I've no doubt, will keep you entertained with tales of derring do and political insight. I'm off to hit the bottle in order to face tomorrow's enslaught of check-ups and anti-inflamatories. Back as soon as is inhumanly possible.

So... here is the missing link:

"We're going to hang out the washing on the Siegfried Line.
Have you any dirty washing, mother dear?
We're gonna hang out the washing on the Siegfried Line
'cause the washing day is here."



"Whether the weather may be wet or fine
We'll just rub along without a care.
We're going to hang out the washing on the Siegfried Line
If the Siegfried Line's still there."

---

G.I. Joe has his own special way of getting the Iraqis on side.