Dear ‘The Sun’,
From time to time, the nation needs an organisation or publication to stand up and speak for the little guy – the man (or woman) whose voice is never heard and who, if left to their own devices, would never be able to impress their true feelings upon the powers-that-be. It can be a hugely important part of the democratic process, and one capable of significant and powerful change.
However, that ‘voice of the people’ isn’t you, pal. Having been appalled by your jingoistic, poorly-written, ill-researched and transparently-manipulated nonsense for many years now, I would just like to clarify to you that The Sun does NOT actually speak for the nation. Don’t you DARE to assume that you understand what I think or feel about any particular situation, because you and I have about as much in common as Linda McCartney and Bernard Matthews.
Your coverage of the England management role is the latest example of your work that leads me to the inevitable conclusion that it can only be produced by a finely-trained team of chimpanzees mashing away at spittle-flecked keyboards. Some breaking news for you, guys - it just so happens that not only do those with more understanding of the subject (ie the FA) think differently; so do large swathes of the population.
Here’s the truth. Virtually nobody I know wanted Harry Redknapp as England manager. In fact, we’ve watched aghast as the man that you think is perfectly suited for the biggest job in English football has revealed some of the following flaws (all actual quotes):
From Harry himself:
“I've a big problem - I can't write. I write like a two-year-old and I can't spell. I can't work a computer, I don't know what an email is, I have never sent a fax and I've never even sent a text message.”
At this stage, it isn’t hard for any of us to see why you employ him as a columnist. The main shock is that he hasn’t risen to editor yet. But amazingly, things manage to get worse.
According to Harry: “Benoit Assou-Ekotto probably doesn't even know we are playing Chelsea.” Well, he might have a clue if you’d spent the WEEK before the game running through the complex stuff that defenders might need to know, like who he should be marking and other amazing insights that might help his performance, Harry.
In the words of Rafael van der Vaart: “There are no long and boring speeches about tactics, like I was used to at Real Madrid. There is a board in our dressing room but Harry doesn’t write anything on it. It’s not that we do nothing – but it’s close to that.”
From the mouth of Gareth Bale: “Van der Vaart took the corner and I headed it in but it was a total fluke – we don’t practice corners or have routines or anything.” (this would be less worrying if Spurs didn’t have one of the worst records for scoring from corners in the country – at one point this season they went 133 corners without one leading to a goal)
But hey, BOLLOCKS to all that – we don’t like Roy cos he SPEAKS FUNNY! HE CAN’T PRONOUNCE HIS ‘R’S! THAT’S HILARIOUS! And as for the fact that he has had the sheer TEMERITY to learn FIVE foreign languages? Well, in your own words ‘nobody likes a smart-arse’.
You really are an odious, reprehensible, grotty little rag. You gleefully contribute to a culture that promotes and rewards ignorance and obnoxious behavior, while belittling anyone who appears to present an intellectual challenge to the average knuckle-dragging white van man.
Before a ball has been kicked, you have taken it upon yourselves to suggest that the country is furious at Hodgson’s appointment when, quite simply, we aren’t. You are. You are furious because Redknapp plays your game and allows you to perpetuate the pompous myth that what you do is in some way important to the running of the game, you are furious because you pay him as a columnist, and you are furious because you’ve spent the last three months screaming EXCLUSIVE every time you mentioned his ‘inevitable’ appointment.
I’m not furious. I’m quite pleased. I’d rather we still had Fabio or Sven, to be honest, but you did a cracking job of convincing the world that we all wanted rid of them too (we didn’t, just to clarify.)
Today, your headline speaks everything of the boorish playground bully. Jealous of the quiet, studious academic with plenty of success behind them, you’ve resorted to hateful, personal insults that any right-minded individual would find disgusting. It’s nasty, unnecessary, unfair bullying – don’t dare try to dress it up as informed comment.
To claim that such language and sentiments speak for us all is tantamount to libel. I don’t think like you. I don’t act like you. In fact, I plain just don’t like you.
I don’t expect a response, because I’ve a feeling you’ll only use it to laugh at me for wearing glasses or not having cool trainers on. Now fuck off and free up some jobs for proper journalists.
Wednesday 2 May 2012
Thursday 29 March 2012
Fat women with butterfly tattoos
Yeah, because absolutely nothing sums up your inner pixie like the most delicate of nature's creatures you massive fat fucking troglodyte. 'I know I may look like a swamp donkey, but I'm a dainty little thing on the inside'.
Are you fucking bollocks, you fat ugly heffalump. Extra hatred accrued for having the tattoo on the small of your back, the top of your neck or the top of your tit.
Now fuck off back to your burger.
Are you fucking bollocks, you fat ugly heffalump. Extra hatred accrued for having the tattoo on the small of your back, the top of your neck or the top of your tit.
Now fuck off back to your burger.
Thursday 9 February 2012
Why our football team is going to the dogs
Taking a look at the players currently available to whomever the new England manager will be, it could conceivably consist of the following XI – all of whom had to be relied on by Capello at some time or other during his time in charge:
1) David James – had an affair behind wife’s back with a Hollyoaks star.
2) Glen Johnson – stole a toilet seat from B&Q
3) Ashley Cole – cheats on his wife and sends naked images to other woman
4) Steven Gerrard – caught on CCTV twatting a DJ
5) John Terry – escaped jail after assault and affray in 2002, mocked grieving American tourists in the immediate aftermath of 9/11, had an affair with his team-mate’s wife and has been filmed shouting racist abuse at a fellow professional
6) Rio Ferdinand – consoled himself on missing out for Euro 2000 by going on holiday and filming an orgy with his team mates
7) Jermaine Pennant – jailed for drink driving and has actually had to play while wearing an electronic tag.
8) Frank Lampard – a co-performer in Rio’s sex tape.
9) Peter Crouch – uses teenage whores behind his girlfriend’s back.
10) Wayne Rooney- uses granny whores behind his wife’s back
11) Jermaine Defoe – had sex in his car in broad daylight just yards from a full playground
And apparently, Fabio Capello has ‘failed to motivate them’. What utterly shameful, embarrassing bollocks. The man has won titles in Italy and Spain, as well as the Champion’s League. Are we to assume that he does not know how to motivate? Or is it fairer to say he is used to working with committed professionals capable of concentrating on the roles he asks them to fill, meaning he can concentrate on tactical gameplans to maximize his team’s strengths and minimize the opposition’s?
To succeed as England manager, it would seem the most important things you can do is to get up first and make the players their Coco Pops, telling them that they are mummy’s special soldier and only playing a formation that suits them and lets them run around and kick the ball as much as they want in the way that they want to do it. Team briefings should not interrupt anyone texting their mistress/arranging a visit from a whore and there is no need to concentrate on the finer points of tactical play. Training should be focused 100% around RUNNING THROUGH BRICK WALLS and nothing else because that, ultimately, is how they will be judged.
Because the manager is foreign, he could have absolutely no pride in the shirt whatsoever, unlike the squad of English born, English-bred Neanderthals who would never leave these glorious shores if it wasn’t for the inconvenience of away games. They demonstrate their pride by adhering to no moral code whatsoever and placing themselves and their egos at the very centre of the universe.
When they inevitably are found wanting when coming up against disciplined, intelligent professionals who are able to work with their coach to identify and execute a gameplan, the will stare around in bewildered buffoonery looking for someone else to blame for this seemingly inexplicable glitch in the matrix. Sometimes it is the fault of the officials, but as long as it is someone foreign that doesn’t understand just how important the bulldog spirit is then the world is back on an even keel and we can all look forward to repeating the entire fuckshow at the next available opportunity.
Fabio Capello is not to blame for this disgusting state of affairs any more than Sven was (indeed, the two most successful managers in England’s history when judged on number of wins and tournaments qualified for, as opposed to the percentage of brick walls run through, pints of blood spilled and decibels achieved while singing our national anthem/booing the enemy’s opposition’s.
Nope, the reason English football is in the shit is because we’ve engineered a system where they earn too much money to worry or care about anything. Ever. Lacking the discipline or intelligence of European footballers, we hoik them out of school aged about 6 and create monstrous personalities that are doomed to end in inevitable Shakespearean tragedy.
Imagine doing your job safe in the knowledge that if you and your colleagues are absolutely shit, your boss will be the one that gets fired. That you don’t actually need to justify your salary through your performance, because you can’t be sacked. That even if somehow your boss does look like succeeding in forcing you out, another company doing exactly the same thing will probably pay you even more money than the sum you already fail to justify.
Do you think you’d thrive and excel, or become lazy, arrogant and un-motivated? I think a whole lot of people would fall into the latter category – and every single professional footballer would be there with you.
There are, of course, English footballers out there who are committed to improving themselves and show the passion and motivation that are needed for success. What they need is for those who lack those characteristics to stop taking up valuable squad space that could be given to someone who actually gives a shit.
Poor old Fabio tried to treat the bunch of miscreants currently disgracing the Three Lions like adults, in the belief that they could change. If he made a major mistake during his tenure, that was it. But had he summarily dismissed them all and started from scratch with a new squad, he’d have been slaughtered by the media and such inexperience would also have been laid painfully bare for all to see when put to the sword by world football’s finest.
What we need to do is give the obnoxious twats that currently infest our team one final hurrah (or boo) and then rebuild. Write off the next world cup because we don’t have the kind of experienced leaders left for the new generation to look up to. Behaviourally, we are two generations of footballer away from having any kind of chance at a major tournament because we simply cannot conduct ourselves in a manner that enables a solid infrastructure to be built around the team upon which success can be built.
I just hope the Tom Cleverleys, the Jack Wilshires and the Daniel Sturridges are watching and learning from just how wrong the ‘golden generation’ that preceded them got it. If they can be part of a new England environment that rewards intelligence, teamwork and commitment rather than massaging egos and referee personality battles on the covers of the nation’s tabloids then we just MIGHT have a chance.
But don’t for one second think that Fabio Cappello’s departure will change any of this. It makes it much, much worse. Fabio, you’re best off out of it – you deserve to work with much, much better than what England had to offer you.
1) David James – had an affair behind wife’s back with a Hollyoaks star.
2) Glen Johnson – stole a toilet seat from B&Q
3) Ashley Cole – cheats on his wife and sends naked images to other woman
4) Steven Gerrard – caught on CCTV twatting a DJ
5) John Terry – escaped jail after assault and affray in 2002, mocked grieving American tourists in the immediate aftermath of 9/11, had an affair with his team-mate’s wife and has been filmed shouting racist abuse at a fellow professional
6) Rio Ferdinand – consoled himself on missing out for Euro 2000 by going on holiday and filming an orgy with his team mates
7) Jermaine Pennant – jailed for drink driving and has actually had to play while wearing an electronic tag.
8) Frank Lampard – a co-performer in Rio’s sex tape.
9) Peter Crouch – uses teenage whores behind his girlfriend’s back.
10) Wayne Rooney- uses granny whores behind his wife’s back
11) Jermaine Defoe – had sex in his car in broad daylight just yards from a full playground
And apparently, Fabio Capello has ‘failed to motivate them’. What utterly shameful, embarrassing bollocks. The man has won titles in Italy and Spain, as well as the Champion’s League. Are we to assume that he does not know how to motivate? Or is it fairer to say he is used to working with committed professionals capable of concentrating on the roles he asks them to fill, meaning he can concentrate on tactical gameplans to maximize his team’s strengths and minimize the opposition’s?
To succeed as England manager, it would seem the most important things you can do is to get up first and make the players their Coco Pops, telling them that they are mummy’s special soldier and only playing a formation that suits them and lets them run around and kick the ball as much as they want in the way that they want to do it. Team briefings should not interrupt anyone texting their mistress/arranging a visit from a whore and there is no need to concentrate on the finer points of tactical play. Training should be focused 100% around RUNNING THROUGH BRICK WALLS and nothing else because that, ultimately, is how they will be judged.
Because the manager is foreign, he could have absolutely no pride in the shirt whatsoever, unlike the squad of English born, English-bred Neanderthals who would never leave these glorious shores if it wasn’t for the inconvenience of away games. They demonstrate their pride by adhering to no moral code whatsoever and placing themselves and their egos at the very centre of the universe.
When they inevitably are found wanting when coming up against disciplined, intelligent professionals who are able to work with their coach to identify and execute a gameplan, the will stare around in bewildered buffoonery looking for someone else to blame for this seemingly inexplicable glitch in the matrix. Sometimes it is the fault of the officials, but as long as it is someone foreign that doesn’t understand just how important the bulldog spirit is then the world is back on an even keel and we can all look forward to repeating the entire fuckshow at the next available opportunity.
Fabio Capello is not to blame for this disgusting state of affairs any more than Sven was (indeed, the two most successful managers in England’s history when judged on number of wins and tournaments qualified for, as opposed to the percentage of brick walls run through, pints of blood spilled and decibels achieved while singing our national anthem/booing the enemy’s opposition’s.
Nope, the reason English football is in the shit is because we’ve engineered a system where they earn too much money to worry or care about anything. Ever. Lacking the discipline or intelligence of European footballers, we hoik them out of school aged about 6 and create monstrous personalities that are doomed to end in inevitable Shakespearean tragedy.
Imagine doing your job safe in the knowledge that if you and your colleagues are absolutely shit, your boss will be the one that gets fired. That you don’t actually need to justify your salary through your performance, because you can’t be sacked. That even if somehow your boss does look like succeeding in forcing you out, another company doing exactly the same thing will probably pay you even more money than the sum you already fail to justify.
Do you think you’d thrive and excel, or become lazy, arrogant and un-motivated? I think a whole lot of people would fall into the latter category – and every single professional footballer would be there with you.
There are, of course, English footballers out there who are committed to improving themselves and show the passion and motivation that are needed for success. What they need is for those who lack those characteristics to stop taking up valuable squad space that could be given to someone who actually gives a shit.
Poor old Fabio tried to treat the bunch of miscreants currently disgracing the Three Lions like adults, in the belief that they could change. If he made a major mistake during his tenure, that was it. But had he summarily dismissed them all and started from scratch with a new squad, he’d have been slaughtered by the media and such inexperience would also have been laid painfully bare for all to see when put to the sword by world football’s finest.
What we need to do is give the obnoxious twats that currently infest our team one final hurrah (or boo) and then rebuild. Write off the next world cup because we don’t have the kind of experienced leaders left for the new generation to look up to. Behaviourally, we are two generations of footballer away from having any kind of chance at a major tournament because we simply cannot conduct ourselves in a manner that enables a solid infrastructure to be built around the team upon which success can be built.
I just hope the Tom Cleverleys, the Jack Wilshires and the Daniel Sturridges are watching and learning from just how wrong the ‘golden generation’ that preceded them got it. If they can be part of a new England environment that rewards intelligence, teamwork and commitment rather than massaging egos and referee personality battles on the covers of the nation’s tabloids then we just MIGHT have a chance.
But don’t for one second think that Fabio Cappello’s departure will change any of this. It makes it much, much worse. Fabio, you’re best off out of it – you deserve to work with much, much better than what England had to offer you.
Thursday 8 July 2010
I'm giving away MILLIONS for charidee
------Original Message------
From: Mr. Adada Adada
To: undisclosed-recipients:;,
ReplyTo: xxxxxx
Subject: Re: Charity Request.
Sent: 8 Jul 2010 11:39
Hello Friend,
I am Mr. Adada an Oil merchant in Iraq; i have been diagnosed with esophageal cancer.
It has defied all forms of medical treatment, and right now I have only about a few months to live, according to medical experts, just recently my doctor inform me i have a few weeks to live due to the esophageal cancer. I have not particularly lived my life so well, as I never really cared for anyone (not even myself) but my business. Though I am very rich, I was never generous, I was always hostile to people and only focused on my business as that was the only thing I cared for. But now I regret all this as I now know that there is more to life than just wanting to have or make all the money in the world. I have decided to give alms to charity organizations, as I want this to be one of the last good deeds I do on earth. The last of my money which no one knows of is the huge cash deposit of fifteen million dollars $15, 000, 000,00 that I have with a finance/Security Company abroad. I will want you to help me collect this deposit and dispatched it to charity organizations. I!
t may interest you to know that i
I have set aside 10% for you and for your time.
God be with you.
Mr. Adada
My reply:
Hello, FRIEND!
Dear Mr Adadadadadada Dadadadadada (is there a tune for that, by the way?)
I was utterly amazed and delighted to find you nestling deep within my box this morning. Obviously, bad old news about the cancer. boohoo and all that. Still, onwards and upwards, eh old chap? Must say it is terribly good of you to be thinking of me (and the charities) at this difficult stage for you. Throat cancer is a real pain in the neck.
I am a similarly charitable soul to yourself, and have always tried to live a pious life (preferably steak and ale or chicken and mushroom). I wouldn't worry about the fact that you have been an evil tyrant most of your life - the great thing about God is that as long as you are really sorry about all the prostitutes and killings and whatever, he'll still let you in at the last minute.
Given that you want to give alms to charity and are based in Iraq, I have toyed with the idea of creating a charitable foundation on your behalf to oversee these wishes. However, I have already made a number of phone calls and the response I got to my suggestions of a new charity entitled Let's Send Alms to Iraq was given very short shrift by everyone between A and C in the Yellow Pages. Thank goodness for my 100 free minutes on my mobile contract, eh?
Anyhow, to business. I would like to accept your offer and would love to accept delivery of the full amount ($15,000,000) via Western Union transfer. They have a branch in my local high street so it probably seems easiest that way.
The specific charities I would like to support with your most generous donation are:
Scooby doo-ings
This is a charity that re-homes sexually traumatised animals that have been subjected to vicious sodomy, rendering them unwilling to work as guide dogs if their owner can get that easily confused after three pints of special brew.
Free Cambodian Women
I want to make all women in Cambodia free - a notion I am sure you would agree with. The idea is that instead of having to pay for them by the hour, or night, a central fund would be set up which enables tourists to just book whichever one they want for the evening without having to actually pay for it. This extra saving for the tourist could bring millions of extra visitors to the country, based on the freedom of women, and there would be substantial benefits in supporting industries such as the manufacture of rohypnol, neat vodka, and shallow graves - all of which will still be needed, fee or no fee!
The Louise Bennett Holiday fund.
Poor Louise Bennet was born with no eyes, limbs, ears or lungs. She can survive only by drinking yak's milk through her tear ducts, due to a crippling series of allergies that leave her intolerant of most everyday items including Marmite, Fairy Liquid, dust, oxygen and knicker elastic. I have met Louise on a number of occasions and she is a remarkable young woman. She can only communicate by banging her stumps against a tambourine in morse code, but she has expressed to me that her lifelong ambition is to perform an unaided skydive over the grand canyon in america. I would love to pay for her family and her to travel to america so that she can perform her unaided sky dive, and have been saving money to make it happen. On the plus side, we will probably need one less seat reservation on the return flight, so that will save the charity a few quid.
The summer cull
I live in a beautiful seaside resort in England where every year, the view on the beach is ruined by fat mingers in bikinis. It makes finding the real hotties a chore. This charity will provide a summer home for all the mingers, away from the area, where they will be happy to eat chips and watch Keremy Kyle safe in the knowledge that Greenpeace will not turn up while they sunbathe on the beach and try to roll them back into the sea.
Obviously, these are just a few of my own suggestions - I would love to hear from you about any charities that you would like to give money to, and look forward to your next email with moist anticipation.
Remember dude - it's all for charidee.
Cuddles and love,
Mr Biggles
From: Mr. Adada Adada
To: undisclosed-recipients:;
ReplyTo: xxxxxx
Subject: Re: Charity Request.
Sent: 8 Jul 2010 11:39
Hello Friend,
I am Mr. Adada an Oil merchant in Iraq; i have been diagnosed with esophageal cancer.
It has defied all forms of medical treatment, and right now I have only about a few months to live, according to medical experts, just recently my doctor inform me i have a few weeks to live due to the esophageal cancer. I have not particularly lived my life so well, as I never really cared for anyone (not even myself) but my business. Though I am very rich, I was never generous, I was always hostile to people and only focused on my business as that was the only thing I cared for. But now I regret all this as I now know that there is more to life than just wanting to have or make all the money in the world. I have decided to give alms to charity organizations, as I want this to be one of the last good deeds I do on earth. The last of my money which no one knows of is the huge cash deposit of fifteen million dollars $15, 000, 000,00 that I have with a finance/Security Company abroad. I will want you to help me collect this deposit and dispatched it to charity organizations. I!
t may interest you to know that i
I have set aside 10% for you and for your time.
God be with you.
Mr. Adada
My reply:
Hello, FRIEND!
Dear Mr Adadadadadada Dadadadadada (is there a tune for that, by the way?)
I was utterly amazed and delighted to find you nestling deep within my box this morning. Obviously, bad old news about the cancer. boohoo and all that. Still, onwards and upwards, eh old chap? Must say it is terribly good of you to be thinking of me (and the charities) at this difficult stage for you. Throat cancer is a real pain in the neck.
I am a similarly charitable soul to yourself, and have always tried to live a pious life (preferably steak and ale or chicken and mushroom). I wouldn't worry about the fact that you have been an evil tyrant most of your life - the great thing about God is that as long as you are really sorry about all the prostitutes and killings and whatever, he'll still let you in at the last minute.
Given that you want to give alms to charity and are based in Iraq, I have toyed with the idea of creating a charitable foundation on your behalf to oversee these wishes. However, I have already made a number of phone calls and the response I got to my suggestions of a new charity entitled Let's Send Alms to Iraq was given very short shrift by everyone between A and C in the Yellow Pages. Thank goodness for my 100 free minutes on my mobile contract, eh?
Anyhow, to business. I would like to accept your offer and would love to accept delivery of the full amount ($15,000,000) via Western Union transfer. They have a branch in my local high street so it probably seems easiest that way.
The specific charities I would like to support with your most generous donation are:
Scooby doo-ings
This is a charity that re-homes sexually traumatised animals that have been subjected to vicious sodomy, rendering them unwilling to work as guide dogs if their owner can get that easily confused after three pints of special brew.
Free Cambodian Women
I want to make all women in Cambodia free - a notion I am sure you would agree with. The idea is that instead of having to pay for them by the hour, or night, a central fund would be set up which enables tourists to just book whichever one they want for the evening without having to actually pay for it. This extra saving for the tourist could bring millions of extra visitors to the country, based on the freedom of women, and there would be substantial benefits in supporting industries such as the manufacture of rohypnol, neat vodka, and shallow graves - all of which will still be needed, fee or no fee!
The Louise Bennett Holiday fund.
Poor Louise Bennet was born with no eyes, limbs, ears or lungs. She can survive only by drinking yak's milk through her tear ducts, due to a crippling series of allergies that leave her intolerant of most everyday items including Marmite, Fairy Liquid, dust, oxygen and knicker elastic. I have met Louise on a number of occasions and she is a remarkable young woman. She can only communicate by banging her stumps against a tambourine in morse code, but she has expressed to me that her lifelong ambition is to perform an unaided skydive over the grand canyon in america. I would love to pay for her family and her to travel to america so that she can perform her unaided sky dive, and have been saving money to make it happen. On the plus side, we will probably need one less seat reservation on the return flight, so that will save the charity a few quid.
The summer cull
I live in a beautiful seaside resort in England where every year, the view on the beach is ruined by fat mingers in bikinis. It makes finding the real hotties a chore. This charity will provide a summer home for all the mingers, away from the area, where they will be happy to eat chips and watch Keremy Kyle safe in the knowledge that Greenpeace will not turn up while they sunbathe on the beach and try to roll them back into the sea.
Obviously, these are just a few of my own suggestions - I would love to hear from you about any charities that you would like to give money to, and look forward to your next email with moist anticipation.
Remember dude - it's all for charidee.
Cuddles and love,
Mr Biggles
Tuesday 9 February 2010
An open letter to Sunderland AFC
Dear Steve Bruce (and the first team squad at Sunderland)
Jesus TITTY FUCKING CHRIST
What an embarrassing display of fuckwittery you are currently treating us all to! I wasn't aware that the current training regime was being overseen by the bastard lovechildren of Charlie Chaplin, the Chuckle Brothers and Morecombe and Wise, but the utterly embarrassing, humiliating FUCK KNUCKLE performances that you have turned in recently would suggest that rather than dribbling footballs round cones and learning how to play incisive one-twos around the opposition's box, you have instead been mastering the art of turning round whilst holding a ladder and twatting each other face-first into piles of cow shit, or leaning on recently-removed sections of the bar in the Nag's Head.
I have never in my life been so APPALLED at a bunch of footballers - and I've supported Sunderland for my entire life. That means I have seen some phenomenal shite (see McCarthy, M and McMenemy, L). But fuck me, you take the biscuit. You take the whole packet of fucking hobnobs, stick them up your arse (individually) and run off into the sunset singing the theme tune from Glee, actually.
It's bad enough that you look like the kid from that Mask film with Cher, if his face was set on fire and put out with a shovel, shortly before a swarm of killer bees took it in turn to sting his face, then force-feed him peanuts just before he discovered a horrific allergy to the fucking things. Then inject him with all the botox left over after Michael Jackson died.
No, annoying as it is looking at you (Mrs Bruce must have one hell of an imagination, if she lets you bone her with a face like a bagful of smashed twats), it is the fact that you somehow manage to send the troops out to battle with such a remarkable dedication to inefficiency that they somehow manage to fuck up like they did tonight.
We were playing BOTTOM OF THE LEAGUE. A team that has not even got enough money to pay the paperboy. A club that has taken hit after hit after hit. A team that had its best players sold without the MD or manager being told. A team that, until recently, could not afford to play its own goalkeeper. A team that has less money than me (and I had to borrow a fiver to buy a bottle of wine to get me through the dismal existence that was listening to your overpaid shitstains lose tonight). A team that is OWNED BY THE FUCKING BAILIFFS. Never before in the history of football has a team been as badly run as Pompey. Tonight, you made them look like a well-oiled machine. We were a Morrisons to their Marks & Spencer.
To recap, we were playing against a team that is about as capable of winning the Premier League as Mohammed Ali is of winning gymnastic floor show (girls) at the next Olympics. A team that is so worried about where the next blow is coming from that they are starting to resemble a squirrel trapped in a room full of rocking chairs. Yet, faced with this glorious opportunity to halt the biggest slide since Lando Calrissian fell into that pit with the tongue things, you and your heroic employees decided that it was not necessary to take advantage of the fact that they were down to TEN MEN after a trifling TWELVE MINUTES and we were ONE NIL UP. No, like a confused former paedophile in a nursing home we decided to ignore the chance to bury the past, and show matron our photo collection.
You FUCKWITS. I admit that I do not yet hold my UEFA B Licence, but if the exam asks 'what should you do when winning one-nil away from home against bottom of the league when they are reduced to ten men?', DO NOT answer 'get two intellectually subnormal fucktards sent off as quickly as possible, then let them equalise while I stand there looking like someone just wanked on my children's faces in the queue for their school bus'. That might help you progress as a coach.
I sincerely hope that our team of multimillionaires learns from this latest unmitigated disaster. I am not hopeful, however. To be honest, I am not especially hopeful that any of them can actually wipe their own arse without getting shit on their chin, but perhaps time will prove me wrong.
In the meantime, I fucking quit. You are not worth the anger and hatred that following you engender in me. It's like going out with a bird who fucks all my mates, just because we went for a pizza 15 years ago and had a nice evening, and you never know, it might happen again sometime.
Besides which, there are only so many tramps I can kick to death in the aftermath of our failures to win without eventually being traced, and your shitehole football club is no longer worth the risk of an official police caution.
FUCK YOU.
Love,
The Fucking Angry Man.
Tuesday 19 January 2010
The Angry Man - LIVE
Sorry for lack of updates. Busy and shit, innit.
Anyhow, when I was in my prime and replying to lots of emails, I also got a few mails of the 'add me to your msn and we can chat sometime' ilk. I duly did, but no-one ever popped up on my MSN - until today. A young lady (yeah right) by the name of Carapachi. It had been so long since I added him/her/it/them that I could not remember the scam, but it followed the usual rules, building up to me providing my credit card details...
I proceeded to chat with the usual angry man bullshit answers, fully expecting to be cut off after a matter of seconds. To my amazement, with the self awareness of an MPs expenses accountant, the dumb fuckers just kept on trucking. My personal highlight is the song recital - the extra typos suggest that they weren't even cutting and pasting, but actually typing it out. I like to imagine that they were singing along too, but they can't be that naive -can they??
Anyhow, full conversation below - not too clever with formatting so I am in bold and she isn't - hope that the conversation is easy enough for you all to follow but if not stick something in the comments and I'll have a play with it (I ain't no weblord). And if you like it, stick something in the fucking comments anyway, it's take take take with you bastards and I never get any positive feedback on these pages...
carapuchi says: (16:37:42)
hello how are you
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:38:14)
fine thanks, you?
carapuchi says: (16:40:26)
im fine thx babe
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:40:42)
busy day?
carapuchi says: (16:41:55)
not soooo
carapuchi says: (16:41:57)
so where are you from and how old are you baby
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:43:24)
i am from england and i am 32 and a quarter. What about you?
carapuchi says: (16:44:31)
im from uk warwick and im 23 :D
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:44:51)
a whippersnapper, eh
carapuchi says: (16:45:59)
waht do u mean
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:46:25)
young, compared to an old fart like me
carapuchi says: (16:47:47)
no its ok baby no worries :D
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:48:01)
so what do you do for a living then?
carapuchi says: (16:49:02)
i am a bikini model
carapuchi says: (16:49:04)
how about you
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:49:17)
me too! what are the odds!
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:49:42)
i would imagine that is rather seasonal work - how do you make ends meet the rest of the year?
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:49:47)
winter must be tough
carapuchi says: (16:50:38)
yeah
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:51:34)
Do you model for any famous companies then?
carapuchi says: (16:52:05)
not yet maybe soon .... when i got win the contest that i join :D
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:52:29)
which contest is that then?
carapuchi says: (16:53:07)
its a contest in new york bikini modeling
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:53:19)
how exciting.
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:53:21)
when is it?
carapuchi says: (16:53:46)
this comming feb 14
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:57:26)
how romanti
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:57:30)
romantic, even
carapuchi says: (16:58:03)
sexy romantic :D
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:58:34)
i cant imagine a bikini contest would be very romantic - quite competitive.
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:58:57)
My cousin was in one once, it was terrible - the stage was charged by a buffalo and one of the girls was trampled to death
carapuchi says: (16:59:25)
ohh thats sucks :(
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:01:01)
yes it was very traumatic. They had to club the buffalo to death using their shoes in the end.
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:01:08)
poor thing.
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:01:37)
I don't even know what a live buffalo was doing in the british museum, ridiculous
carapuchi says: (17:01:43)
yeah poor thing :(
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:01:46)
where is your bikini contest being held?
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:03:33)
is it near any buffalos?
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:03:36)
be careful baby
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:03:39)
they are big animals
carapuchi says: (17:03:40)
new york city
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:03:55)
yes you said - wondered what building it was in
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:04:00)
its not a zoo is it?
carapuchi says: (17:05:43)
no baby
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:05:54)
oh thank god.
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:06:12)
i think the world has seen enough bikini contests disrupted by animal savagery
carapuchi says: (17:06:28)
baby by the way can i ask you some little favor if its ok to you
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:06:35)
of course you can, sugar cheeks
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:07:13)
which part of warwick are you from, by the way? I am unfamiliar with the grammatical rules in that part of the world, they seem quite baffling at times!
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:07:53)
if your favour is to see a picture of me naked, I am afraid I only have those pictures on my work computer
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:08:06)
but pretty much anything else I will do for you
carapuchi says: (17:09:00)
can you give me a a vote on my pages using my own card info so i can be the top model for the month of january
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:09:21)
isn't that cheating?
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:09:37)
i mean, if i am voting for you because i know you and we are friends?
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:10:24)
i dont mind though. I just believe that if we can't rely on the integrity of a bikini contest, then all that we know to be good and pure in the world may be under threat
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:10:28)
no matter.
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:11:38)
what do you need me to do?
carapuchi says: (17:12:05)
no baby its not
carapuchi says: (17:12:09)
dont worry ok
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:12:17)
i'm not going to jail? you promise?
carapuchi says: (17:13:09)
yeah no worriess just lsiten to me and follow my guide ok
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:14:31)
hmm. okay. But do you cross your heart and hope to die? Stick a needle in your eye? (if you type yes then i will accept your answer on this and we can proceed)
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:15:01)
just type yes
carapuchi says: (17:15:14)
YEAH YES
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:15:17)
and then i need you to do one favour for me before we start!
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:15:35)
will yousing a song for me
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:16:18)
please?
carapuchi says: (17:16:25)
wah do u mean sogn
carapuchi says: (17:16:27)
song
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:16:30)
i'll take your word that you are singing, you just have to sing the lines as i type them
carapuchi says: (17:17:06)
ok
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:17:08)
yes, a song!
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:17:24)
ok, it will only be a few lines, but I will type them
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:17:28)
then you can type them as you sing them
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:17:40)
after the first verse and the chorus, i will do your bidding!
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:17:41)
deal?
carapuchi says: (17:17:52)
ok
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:18:12)
It's 'end of the road' by Boyz To Men.
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:18:15)
It means a lot to me.
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:18:39)
Girl you know we belong together, I don't have time for you to be playing with my heart like this
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:18:52)
You'll be mine forever baby, you just wait
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:19:25)
We belong together and you know that I am right why do you play with my heart why do you play with my mind?
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:19:47)
Daid we'd be forever said it'd never die, how could you love me and leave me and never say goodbye
carapuchi says: (17:19:57)
cool
Girl you now we beolng together, I don't have time for you to playiwith my heart like this oull be mine forever baby you just wait We belong together and you knwo that I am right why do you play with my hert why do you play with mymind?
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:20:10)
When I can't sleep at night without holding you tight girl,. each time I just break down and cry
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:20:27)
Pain in my head oh i'd rather be dead, spinning around and around
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:20:43)
(here comes the choruse - are you singing?)
carapuchi says: (17:20:54)
yeah i am baby
When I can't sleep at nihgt without holding you tight girl,. each time I just break down and crypain in my head oh id rather be dead, spining around and aound
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:21:57)
Although we've come to the end of the road, still i can't let go. It's unnatural (its unnatural) you belong to me, i belong to you
carapuchi says: (17:22:13)
is that your fav. song?
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:22:15)
(you type that bit out while I harmonise at this end, and we are done!)
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:22:20)
yes it is!
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:22:32)
just type out the 'although we've come' bit and i'll be happy
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:22:40)
and then i will vote for you!
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:23:17)
please?
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:25:03)
hello? we need to hurry cos I'm going in a minute! sing my song and tell me how we make you win the bikini contest!
carapuchi says: (17:25:18)
Although we've come to the end of the road, still i cant let go. It's unnatural its unnatral you belong to me, i blong to you
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:25:23)
wow, thank you
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:25:27)
i bet it was beautiful
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:25:33)
i sang it at my mother's funeral
carapuchi says: (17:28:47)
so can i send the first pages to sign up
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:29:07)
oh please do baby, i am moist with anticipation of seeing you in your undercrackers
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:31:03)
sorry sugarplum, I have to run - but next time you see me online shout me and I promise I will vote for you, I ,may be online later! I love you!
Anyhow, when I was in my prime and replying to lots of emails, I also got a few mails of the 'add me to your msn and we can chat sometime' ilk. I duly did, but no-one ever popped up on my MSN - until today. A young lady (yeah right) by the name of Carapachi. It had been so long since I added him/her/it/them that I could not remember the scam, but it followed the usual rules, building up to me providing my credit card details...
I proceeded to chat with the usual angry man bullshit answers, fully expecting to be cut off after a matter of seconds. To my amazement, with the self awareness of an MPs expenses accountant, the dumb fuckers just kept on trucking. My personal highlight is the song recital - the extra typos suggest that they weren't even cutting and pasting, but actually typing it out. I like to imagine that they were singing along too, but they can't be that naive -can they??
Anyhow, full conversation below - not too clever with formatting so I am in bold and she isn't - hope that the conversation is easy enough for you all to follow but if not stick something in the comments and I'll have a play with it (I ain't no weblord). And if you like it, stick something in the fucking comments anyway, it's take take take with you bastards and I never get any positive feedback on these pages...
carapuchi says: (16:37:42)
hello how are you
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:38:14)
fine thanks, you?
carapuchi says: (16:40:26)
im fine thx babe
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:40:42)
busy day?
carapuchi says: (16:41:55)
not soooo
carapuchi says: (16:41:57)
so where are you from and how old are you baby
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:43:24)
i am from england and i am 32 and a quarter. What about you?
carapuchi says: (16:44:31)
im from uk warwick and im 23 :D
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:44:51)
a whippersnapper, eh
carapuchi says: (16:45:59)
waht do u mean
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:46:25)
young, compared to an old fart like me
carapuchi says: (16:47:47)
no its ok baby no worries :D
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:48:01)
so what do you do for a living then?
carapuchi says: (16:49:02)
i am a bikini model
carapuchi says: (16:49:04)
how about you
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:49:17)
me too! what are the odds!
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:49:42)
i would imagine that is rather seasonal work - how do you make ends meet the rest of the year?
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:49:47)
winter must be tough
carapuchi says: (16:50:38)
yeah
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:51:34)
Do you model for any famous companies then?
carapuchi says: (16:52:05)
not yet maybe soon .... when i got win the contest that i join :D
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:52:29)
which contest is that then?
carapuchi says: (16:53:07)
its a contest in new york bikini modeling
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:53:19)
how exciting.
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:53:21)
when is it?
carapuchi says: (16:53:46)
this comming feb 14
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:57:26)
how romanti
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:57:30)
romantic, even
carapuchi says: (16:58:03)
sexy romantic :D
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:58:34)
i cant imagine a bikini contest would be very romantic - quite competitive.
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (16:58:57)
My cousin was in one once, it was terrible - the stage was charged by a buffalo and one of the girls was trampled to death
carapuchi says: (16:59:25)
ohh thats sucks :(
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:01:01)
yes it was very traumatic. They had to club the buffalo to death using their shoes in the end.
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:01:08)
poor thing.
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:01:37)
I don't even know what a live buffalo was doing in the british museum, ridiculous
carapuchi says: (17:01:43)
yeah poor thing :(
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:01:46)
where is your bikini contest being held?
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:03:33)
is it near any buffalos?
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:03:36)
be careful baby
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:03:39)
they are big animals
carapuchi says: (17:03:40)
new york city
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:03:55)
yes you said - wondered what building it was in
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:04:00)
its not a zoo is it?
carapuchi says: (17:05:43)
no baby
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:05:54)
oh thank god.
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:06:12)
i think the world has seen enough bikini contests disrupted by animal savagery
carapuchi says: (17:06:28)
baby by the way can i ask you some little favor if its ok to you
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:06:35)
of course you can, sugar cheeks
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:07:13)
which part of warwick are you from, by the way? I am unfamiliar with the grammatical rules in that part of the world, they seem quite baffling at times!
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:07:53)
if your favour is to see a picture of me naked, I am afraid I only have those pictures on my work computer
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:08:06)
but pretty much anything else I will do for you
carapuchi says: (17:09:00)
can you give me a a vote on my pages using my own card info so i can be the top model for the month of january
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:09:21)
isn't that cheating?
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:09:37)
i mean, if i am voting for you because i know you and we are friends?
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:10:24)
i dont mind though. I just believe that if we can't rely on the integrity of a bikini contest, then all that we know to be good and pure in the world may be under threat
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:10:28)
no matter.
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:11:38)
what do you need me to do?
carapuchi says: (17:12:05)
no baby its not
carapuchi says: (17:12:09)
dont worry ok
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:12:17)
i'm not going to jail? you promise?
carapuchi says: (17:13:09)
yeah no worriess just lsiten to me and follow my guide ok
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:14:31)
hmm. okay. But do you cross your heart and hope to die? Stick a needle in your eye? (if you type yes then i will accept your answer on this and we can proceed)
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:15:01)
just type yes
carapuchi says: (17:15:14)
YEAH YES
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:15:17)
and then i need you to do one favour for me before we start!
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:15:35)
will yousing a song for me
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:16:18)
please?
carapuchi says: (17:16:25)
wah do u mean sogn
carapuchi says: (17:16:27)
song
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:16:30)
i'll take your word that you are singing, you just have to sing the lines as i type them
carapuchi says: (17:17:06)
ok
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:17:08)
yes, a song!
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:17:24)
ok, it will only be a few lines, but I will type them
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:17:28)
then you can type them as you sing them
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:17:40)
after the first verse and the chorus, i will do your bidding!
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:17:41)
deal?
carapuchi says: (17:17:52)
ok
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:18:12)
It's 'end of the road' by Boyz To Men.
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:18:15)
It means a lot to me.
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:18:39)
Girl you know we belong together, I don't have time for you to be playing with my heart like this
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:18:52)
You'll be mine forever baby, you just wait
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:19:25)
We belong together and you know that I am right why do you play with my heart why do you play with my mind?
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:19:47)
Daid we'd be forever said it'd never die, how could you love me and leave me and never say goodbye
carapuchi says: (17:19:57)
cool
Girl you now we beolng together, I don't have time for you to playiwith my heart like this oull be mine forever baby you just wait We belong together and you knwo that I am right why do you play with my hert why do you play with mymind?
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:20:10)
When I can't sleep at night without holding you tight girl,. each time I just break down and cry
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:20:27)
Pain in my head oh i'd rather be dead, spinning around and around
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:20:43)
(here comes the choruse - are you singing?)
carapuchi says: (17:20:54)
yeah i am baby
When I can't sleep at nihgt without holding you tight girl,. each time I just break down and crypain in my head oh id rather be dead, spining around and aound
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:21:57)
Although we've come to the end of the road, still i can't let go. It's unnatural (its unnatural) you belong to me, i belong to you
carapuchi says: (17:22:13)
is that your fav. song?
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:22:15)
(you type that bit out while I harmonise at this end, and we are done!)
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:22:20)
yes it is!
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:22:32)
just type out the 'although we've come' bit and i'll be happy
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:22:40)
and then i will vote for you!
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:23:17)
please?
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:25:03)
hello? we need to hurry cos I'm going in a minute! sing my song and tell me how we make you win the bikini contest!
carapuchi says: (17:25:18)
Although we've come to the end of the road, still i cant let go. It's unnatural its unnatral you belong to me, i blong to you
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:25:23)
wow, thank you
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:25:27)
i bet it was beautiful
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:25:33)
i sang it at my mother's funeral
carapuchi says: (17:28:47)
so can i send the first pages to sign up
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:29:07)
oh please do baby, i am moist with anticipation of seeing you in your undercrackers
mikeos@paragon.co.uk says: (17:31:03)
sorry sugarplum, I have to run - but next time you see me online shout me and I promise I will vote for you, I ,may be online later! I love you!
Friday 20 November 2009
Russian brides. It has been a while.
I've not pursued a Russian bride for a little while, but something about this lady's fringe spoke to me. Here is her first email to me, along with my reply below. I bet myself a mars bar that she doesn't respond to this one. It's a bit dark.
Hi stranger!
My name Kristina. If to be fair, I do not know what to write to you as I for the first time get acquainted on the Internet. But I nevertheless shall try to make it.
I never got acquainted the first with men, in fact men always begin acquaintance to women. I in general am very happy, that could write to you as I badly know a computer and for a long time could not be registered on a site. But with the divine help at me it has turned out. I was interested with your structure and I have dared to write to you. I with impatience shall wait from you the answer. Probably you my second half! I very strongly want to find to myself of the partner in life as to me 31 years, and at me are not present the family and children. In fact time leaves very quickly and we shall not notice, that the life has already has passed by, and we and have not understood for what lived. Forgive, I already probably have bothered you with the reasonings:).
I want to write to you a little about me:My growth of 5.7 foots, weight of 54 kgs. I have attractive appearance and a harmonous figure.I am very cheerful and joyful person with sense of humour. I like when concerning the man and the woman, the leader the man. You can be the leader in attitudes? I always listen to opinion of the man and I adhere to it. I the quiet woman also do not love quarrel. Well, on it I shall finish the letter. Tomorrow I shall come again into the Internet of cafe and I shall be very happy to see your letter. I shall give you my e-mail for fast communication as it is very difficult for me to write to you on a site and I do not know as you to send the photo. Through e-mail I can send you her without problems.
Please reply only to my personal e-mail: xxxxx@yahoo.com
I with the big hope wait from you the letter. Good-bye.
Kristina.
MY ANSWER
Good felching, Kristina!
I feel very lucky that you have contacted me, as I have not received many contacts through the fetish dating site. However, you are beautiful in many ways, firm of fringe and hooped of earring. You are of particular interest to me because you bear a striking resemblance to my ex wife, and I think that perhaps in time you can replace her. It would be most handy if you could.
See, the thing is, I like a bit of the rough stuff with women, if you catch my drift. Nothing too serious, just light whipping, bondage, domination, choking, anal rape, genital piercing, pissing, suffocation, that kind of thing. Now, with the missus, who looks a lot like you, things went a bit too far. With hindsight, the chainsaw was always going to be a dangerous addition to our torture dungeon, but what’s done is done and luckily the walls are thin so her death gurgle would not have been overheard.
It does, however, leave me with a little bit of an issue. I’ve told the neighbours that she has gone to stay with her mother for a couple of months, but at some point they are bond to start asking questions and I’m going to need a replacement who looks the same – at least from a distance. I was wondering, if we chat over email for a while and hit it off, how you would feel about coming over here and marrying me? You look close enough to the (now) ex, and I think we can get around some of the problems in public by getting you to wear a burka and pretend you have converted to Islam.
In return I will provide you with free lodgings, food and all the rest of it – you just need to be willing to adhere to the following routines that I enjoyed with the wife in order to avoid arousing suspicion, and then we could have a wonderful life together.
Monday: Monday is traditionally spitroast day in my house. I usually invite a few friends over – Adolf, Uncle Josef and Peter Sutcliffe – and we will enjoy a really good spitroast. You will be expected to provide us with that, and not to complain. You will also need to clean up afterwards, which can include the unsightly task of getting the lumps out of Adolf’s moustache.
Tuesday: you will be expected to deliver pharmaceutical packages to a number of locations across London. You will not open the packages, and you will not ask the names of those you will meet. You will be contacted by them via cell phone only, and if you are discovered, you are to tell no-one and insist the packages were for personal use only.
Wednesday: Free time.
Thursday: It is traditional on this day that my wife and I will visit our nearest nature reserve where I will bait, trap and kill a wild squirrel. You will then be expected to lick its nuts before we barbeque it and serve it with a nice Chablis.
Friday: Party night! I traditionally host a lavish ballroom affair, with wine on the tables, 50-60 guests, a live jazz band, great food fron internationally-recognised chefs and an after-dinner speaker. You will be expected to look after everyone’s coats.
Saturday: Some friends and I adopted a young girl a few years back, and we share responsibility for looking after her. She normally stays inside, but to keep her fit and healthy, it is inevitable that she will need to leave her quarters from time to time. You are to take her for a brisk walk, then return her to the dungeon. You will need to keep her on the lead at all times as she has a record of escape attempts.
Sunday: I am a church minister, so you will be expected to attend the morning service with me, then provide afternoon tea for other women of the parish, and occasionally attend church fetes and such like with me.
How does that sound to you? Please write back and let me know as soon as possible!
Much love,
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