after reading' letters from a nut 'i thought i'd write some of my own. got a nice pic of lk back.
henry root books started this craze? be interested to know if any of you weirdos out there have tried this sort of thing?
dan
GMTV.
Dear Lorraine Kelly {can I call you L.K?}
Can I begin my letter by saying that I am your BIGGEST FAN, although there will probably be some right weirdo out there, no doubt living with their mummy who claims to be your biggest fan, well that’s just RUBBISH! I am your No1 fan L.K! And I also have my own flat {well the council really own it but I’ve been away from my MUMMY FOR AGES!}
Anyway L.K, the reason I am writing to you is that the other week, sometime just before Christmas, I was watching your show, L.K Today, and you had this guy on, young guy, seemed a bit gay {I’m all for that sort of thing myself but I like girls, but I will sit and happily watch DALE WINTON, GRAHAM NORTON, ANDREW CASTLE and JONATHON ROSS because their sexuality does not bother me one little bit. I enjoy watching them because they are good, infact, very good at what they do, and when it comes down to it, that’s all that matters.}
Well that guy, sorry but I can’t remember his name, Nigel? Tristram? Dale?Andrew? Nope, sorry, he goes out shopping and stuff for you, you must know him L?
Anyway, one day he came back from a shopping jaunt and he showed you a great big pudding, I’m not talking about EAMON HOLMES here, ha,ha,ha,ha,ha, just a wee joke there L.
It was bought in one of those very posh London shops and it looked really delicious.
The thing is L, I quite fancy one of those puddings, I have a bit of a sweet tooth and I love a bit of Christmas pudd, trouble is, I live up here in Edinburgh!!!!!
Normally I wouldn’t be so bold but I feel you are the type of person that I could ask?
I watch your show every day and I know that it is on from 8.30a.m to 10.30am, not long enough if you ask me L! That’s only two hours aday, so you have the rest of the day to yourself, you could easily nip out and get me one of those pudd’s?
Hopefully there will still be some left in that fancy shop {who knows it may even be cheaper now with the sales on? I’m sure you’re like me L.K and every other good Scot, we like a bargain! You could get yourself one?}
I will send you a postal order L, I know I can trust you with the money, I don’t think you would run off with my pudding fund?
If you were too busy I would understand L.
Please though, and I know it’s the sort of kindly act that you would do, please do not ask Eamon Holmes, even though he’s left your gang now, to pop out and get me the pudding, somehow I don’t think it would reach me up here completely intact?
Although from the look of him I don’t think he likes rich food?
Thank you Lorraine and I am truly your No1 fan, keep up the good work
P.S how about a signed photo?
If I can find you one I’ll send it too you! Just a tiny little attempt at humour, I try but I should leave the jokes and fun to the experts, like Andrew Castle.
P.P.S, I look forward to tasting that pudding, yummy……
Thanks L.K
Yours D.F{ No1 fan }
WHITE STRIKE CIDER
CELLARS INT LTD
INFORMATION DEPARTMENT.
Dear Cellars,
May I begin by saying that I am your NO1 fan.
I became a ' Cider supper ' 10 years ago and have never looked
back. I have tried Olde English but found it tasted too 'appley'.
I also have tried Strongbow but found it not 'appley' enough.
Then I came across your product and WOWEE! FANTASTIC!
I am writing this letter because I have a slight problem-
My best friend George (who thinks he is a bit of a doctor,
although you would think he was by the amount of time he spends
in our local clinic( Sighthill ) mainly due to him picking up
various S.T.D's and having bad feet ( from his mothers side of
the family ) has told me that if I continue drinking your cider
that I could end up with something called Corsacoffs Syndrome!
Is this a bad thing? Should I switch to tea?
I only drink around 2 litres each day, I do not suffer any ill
effects, although I do sometimes wake up in strange places-
once in a cupboard in our local library ( Sighthill ) and once
in the middle of a round-about ( near Sighthill ) completely
naked apart from a traffic-cone on my head.
I can still manage to get the Patient Transport Service bus I
drive around town without too many scrapes ( serious ones.)
I know George sometimes talks crap but is he telling the truth
or is he just having one of his ' urine soaked trouser rants? '
I really would appreciate any information/advice on this
matter.
Please let me know if I am in danger.
In the meantime I will continue to down my ' Special Drink '
Thank you again and I await your reply.
I am still and always will be your NO1 fan.
YOURS.
TIME TEAM
INFORMATION DEPARTMENT
CHANNEL 4
Dear Tony,Mick,Phil and Carenza(sorry but I can't remember the
names of the Geo lads, they have beards)
May I begin by saying that I am your NO1 fan,and that's the
truth-I love all of your holes.
I'm writing because I have found something you may find interesting?
I toil away at the weekends on an allotment I have (near
Sighthill ) well, the other day as I was preparing the ground
for a new row of potatoes (King Ed's) I came across some kind
of, well I don't know what!
I think it may be the skeleton of a strange alien visitor,
trapped on this planet after running out of Dialithium Crystal?
I know it sounds ' crazy ' but? I've sent a little sketch of
the skeleton because you are experts( apart from Tony-who just
seems to ask questions and looks puzzled).
Can you help me to solve this mystery?
I would also like to ask if T/T ever plan on visiting Edinburgh?
We have hundreds and hundreds of really, really old cemeteries
up here in Edinburgh and I'm sure that if you were to dig one
up you'd be sure to find things- e.g bones and stuff.
Also I would really love to invite T/T to my allotment, I'd
make old Mick a nice cup of tea, he could have a sandwich too.
You would be doing me a favour if you came, you see I lost some
treasure of my own 3 years ago, some local Neds were
interfering with my rhubarb bush- I shouted at them and they
called me a few naughty names, I gave chase and in my haste to
hit them with a stick I sometimes carry, a brand new £1 coin
fell from my chords, I'm sure the Geo boys, the beardy guys
would easily locate it, you know what us Scots are like with
money! ( joke )
Am I the only person in Britain who sniggers like a ' monkey
playing with his nuts ' when Tony says-
" Now over to Phil who's scraping away with his tool deep in
Carenzas trench "
Please let me know if you can tell me if I have a discovered an
alien grave in my carrot patch and can I still plant my spuds?
Hope you take up my invitation and visit my ' site '
I am still your biggest fan,
Please let me know when you wish to visit as I am away most of
August (caravanning up north)
Yours
sent a daft wee sketch of an old asda trolley.
letters from a nut
Ha Ha,
these are hilarious.
I have laughed like a drain all the way through each letter.
I enjoyed the way you picked up on the corny details, and kept it light.
You have given me something to think about.
This sounds so much fun.
I'm gonna have a go myself.
these are hilarious.
I have laughed like a drain all the way through each letter.
I enjoyed the way you picked up on the corny details, and kept it light.
You have given me something to think about.
This sounds so much fun.
I'm gonna have a go myself.
-
wildmountainthyme
- Persistent Poster
- Posts: 153
- Joined: Tue Jun 10, 2008 4:41 pm
thanks p5. let me say that i'm your biggest ........sound like c.j from reggie perrin.
like to see how you get on with your fanmail.good luck.
dan
like to see how you get on with your fanmail.good luck.
dan
-
wildmountainthyme
- Persistent Poster
- Posts: 153
- Joined: Tue Jun 10, 2008 4:41 pm
more of the same nonsense........
MAINTENANCE DEPT.
WESTSIDE PLAZA.
EDINBURGH DISTRICT COUNCIL.
Dear Sir/Madam,
I have a problem, maybe you could help?
My granny, Mrs Lobelia Doobie, has fallen out with me! Why? Let
me tell you.
As you will have noticed from my address, you will see I stay
in Weir Court, this, if you were not aware is a High Rise type
of accommodation. I stay on the fourteenth floor, sixteen being
the tops ( sadly I do not speak metaphorically there ).
I am a trainee chef at Stevenson College specialising in
Continental Puff Pastry/Cakes/Plain and Fancy H.N.D 11.
My granny, Mrs Doobie, reached her 100 birthday on August 9.
She received her telegram and card from the Queen ( Elizabeth
11 ) and was looking forward to a " right,real,good old
fashioned knees-up " her very own words.
I had promised to make my granny her favourite cake, Cherry and
Nut Tea cake using a traditional melted fat method ( I could
send you the recipe if you'd like to try it? It's delicious and
very easy to make ).
A huge party had been arranged for grans special day, and she
told me she was really looking forward to getting " wired into
the cake " again her very own words.
I spent the week-end preparing her cake, I too was looking
forward to her party. After college on the Monday afternoon I
found myself standing waiting for the lift to slip gently to
the ground, I was tired but I had learnt how to make a good
Roulade Dessert Gateaux for under five pound so I was quite
happy with myself, I watched as the orange even numbers slowly
lit up, 14, then 12, then 10, then 8, then 6, then 4, then 2,
then STOP! then 4, then 6,then 8, then 10,then 12, then 14!
I sighed long and hard as chefs sometimes do.
14 became 12,then 10 then 8 then 6 then 4 then 2 then relief!
Why not take the odd numbered lift I hear you ask?
It was Knackered.
The lift doors opened and I had to step back, I could not see
into the lift for it seemed to be filled with a Misty Haar.
After a few seconds a brace of youths emerged from the smoke,
both sporting the traditional Sighthill Baseball cap, I tried
my best to waft away the strange smelling smoke with my August
edition of " Fun With Buns " but to no great avail.
I peered through the exotic aroma that lurked within the lift
and pressed 14.
By the time the lift had reached the second floor I found
myself giggling. By the third and fourth I had started to laugh
out loud. When the lift had reached the eighth floor I was
convinced my feet were talking to me, they were saying,
" YOU ARE STANDING ON MY TOES, PLEASE MOVE! "
At the tenth I realised it was not my feet talking but one of
my neighbours who is rather small, I could not see him at first
but by the time we had reached the 8th floor the smoke had calmed
down a little. I apologised to Mr Turnbull and suddenly felt
an incredible urge to eat the five pound bag of potatoes he
carried under his arm.
He got out of the lift rather angrily and just as the doors
were about to close a voice behind me said " Hold the doors "
A man and a woman also got out ( with their bicycles. )
As soon as I got into my flat, grannys cake was HISTORY,
along with 12 Mr Kipling mini apple tarts,4 kit-kats and a box
of Crunchy nut corn flakes.
Needless to say my granny was not amused when I turned up with
a Co-Op Strawberry Swiss Roll rather than her afore mentioned
favourite cake.
So, do you think that you could maybe help me to never fall out
with my gran again? All I ask is that you fit some kind of
filter system/vent that would divert any possible nasty smoke
from within the lift, perhaps it could be filtered through to
the Calder Surveillance Office, I was up there once to collect
an entry key for my flat and saw a few people who looked as
though they enjoyed that sort of inhalation?
Can you save my possible future inheritance? She has a lovely
Clarice Cliff tea-pot that I've had my eye on for awhile now.
I've also put on 2 stones and I am worried about this, the
stairs were once a few simple leaps and skips but now? Everest
with Arthurs seat on top.
I feel that with the imminent arrival of a smoking ban on the
horizon in public places that a fan or vent within the lifts
would be sensible and an essenstial necessity.
I look forward to hearing from you. The recipe offer still
stands.
Yours.
chap was out within the week to sort the problem! love the council!
JULIE HOGGEKISS
OUTSTANDING COMPLAINTS
EDINBURGH DISTRICT COUNCIL
WATERLOO PLACE.
Dear Julie Hoggekiss,
ROME was not built in a day, we all know why?
The council were in charge!
I can sympathise with Mrs Nero,
" Why I've sent off IV papyrus, III scrolls and IIV tablets!
We've been in this villa for V months now and we're still
waiting for a tiler to mosaic the bath-house! It would be
easier to build a wall from one side of the country to the
other than get a joiner to knock up a cupboard in your kitchen?
And it would be a hell'ova lot quicker too! I don't know? Now
where's that husband of mine? He said he was just going out
onto the veranda to play his fiddle...BY JUPITER! CAN ANYONE
SMELL BURNING? "
Julie, have things really not moved on within council circles?
I moved in 15.09.03. I handed in a REPAIR letter the next day,
I waited a week but heard nothing from the council.
I phoned the following week only to be told that they knew
nothing of my letter. Someone would look into the matter and
they would phone me back, can you guess what happened Julie?
Well someone did phone back! STOP! Only joking! No-one phoned
me back.
I phoned again and was told a Michael Harley/Harvey was dealing
with the matter and that he would be in touch. Now Julie, I
know you already know the answer to my next question! Well?
Correct! 'Course he didn't!
September came to an end without any more Council
correspondence.
I phoned WESTER HAILES DEPARTMENT in October, I spoke to a chap
called Tony? He said he would send out the INSPECTOR.
The INSPECTOR did indeed come out, in November!
The INSPECTOR told me I would get nothing done 'til after xmas,
ho,ho,ho.
I received a phone call in January to say that the joiner and
window-man would call Jan 26th P.M.They arrived 10.30 A.M?
Tuesday 27th plasterer and tiler would call, also chap to re-
enamel the bath and repair leaking toilet and fix sink to a
wall, preferably in the bath-room, and to repair air vent.
So,the tiler appears, but, he has to leave because the joiner
hadn't fixed the bath! BY JUPITER! I thought to myself, or
something a little more contemporary.
I phoned to find out what kind of huge spanner it was that had
been put into the works, I was told I had been put on a computer
for 'jobs to be done before 12 ' Julie, guess what?
Right again!
Now I've been told the next time someone can come out is Feb
6th P.M Joiner.
Thurs 12th Plumber.
This means another two days off my work added to the countless
others, do you think the service you give is fair?
I feel I have been very patient with the council, it seems the
council are quick to seize ones hard earned Denarius, council
tax and rents, you are equally quick to send out a reminder if
one misses a rent installment! Might I suggest a written
apology/phonecall from the council each time a joiner/plumber
or electrician fails to arrive on time or even fails to appear?
P.S Julie, I have an exciting idea for a new reality game-show,
instead of Bigged Boobed Blondes,ex Anarchists and Lord
Fraudsters and other so called celebs poncing around a jungle,
why not try this? Try and get a hold of a council
plumber/joiner/electrician on a wet Wednesday morning to call,
say after 8.00 A.M but before 5.00 PM? Impossible eh? You're
right! It's easier nowadays to get a celeb’ 'round to your
house! Jimmy Saville? He'll come 'round and seal in your bath,
and he usually brings his own biscuits with him, HOB-NOBS!
Richard and Judy I hear fit a really tight mortise and Terry
Wogan is a whizz with a light-bulb!
I make light of the matter but as the saying goes
You've got too laugh or else...
Please send out help asap..as they say in Rome, Tempus Fugit.
Yours.
chap was not out within the week!
PROJECT OFFICER.
Robert O'Malley Property Management
329 High Street
EDINBURGH EH1 1YH
Dear Mr O'Malley,
May I thank you from the bottom of my heart for the
installation of the new swimming pool situated between WEIR
COURT and HERMISTON COURT in SIGHTHILL.The ‘NEW’ pool has
replaced a concrete car park built in the days when concrete
was the new M.D.F.
The pool is lovely! Trouble is it only fills with water when
there is a slight downpour, I am aware we live in Scotland and
I believe we have the occasional touch of the wet stuff.
You see the problem is that when it does not rain, some would
argue that it does not STOP RAINING! The new pool looks like a
vast empty pot-holed wasteland lacking in any visible
pleasantness, character, charm, imagination, infact very
similar to the ambience one would feel if they were to visit
HAMPDEN PARK and sit through 90 mins of so called RE-DESIGNING!
Rumour has it that I am actually very wrong in thinking that
the above is a swimming pool and that what I can lovingly look
down apon from my penthouse in WEIR COURT is the new car park?
Sir I am astounded! I realise money makes the world, especially
the car parking design world go round BUT! Surely this cannot
be the end of the adventure here? Where is the tarmacadam
surface? The white lines? The numbers? Is the job REALLY
finished?
If this is the case, I recommend that residents of both the
COURTS, pop into MR MUSADDAQ's shop which is next to the
library and purchase a box of HUNDRED'S and THOUSANDS, these we
could gently sprinkle ontop of the unfinished car park surface,
perhaps to a depth of about 12" = 1 foot or 9" in council
arithmetic! This I feel would make a beautiful and rather sweet
topping for the surface. Glazed cherries and those wee diamond
sugary things could be used and would add a touch of panache.
We up here are not asking for a finish/surface of MOSAIC
grandeur found in ANCIENT ROME. We realise that LAPIS
LAZULI, ONYX and TERRACOTTA are expensive but money could be
found! Might I suggest taking a little out of the kitty for the
NEW SCOTTISH PARLIAMENT building? What if they were to maybe
use mere STAINLESS STEEL bathroom fittings rather than the
SADDAM style GOLD type? Cutting down on the DIAMOND encrusted
SLABS?
The RUBY pens filled with liquid GOLD? The HAGGIS wrapped in
fine embroidered SILK? Money is tight all round, but with a
little imagination the job could be finished properly.
Yours.
zilch!
Frank Russell Councillor
City Chambers
High Street
Edinburgh
EHI IYJ
Ref: Re-Landscaping and Demolition Of Car Park/ Drying Green
Areas.
Dear Mr Russell,
The above work has now been finished, unfortunately what has
been left in its place is a rather painful eyesore. The new car
park needs to be re-surfaced, the ground is uneven and has a
pock-marked surface, someone could easily come a cropper on
this dangerous, rubble strewn monstrosity.
Come and have a look at Sighthill in 2003 Mr Russell and see
for yourself the work that has taken place.
P.S if coming by car may I recommend using the car park
facilities within Sighthill Medical Centre, flat, white
lines,perfect.
Yours Faithfully
was invited to plant first silver birch tree as part of the new landscaping/carpark!
no i wasn't, more zilch!
MAINTENANCE DEPT.
WESTSIDE PLAZA.
EDINBURGH DISTRICT COUNCIL.
Dear Sir/Madam,
I have a problem, maybe you could help?
My granny, Mrs Lobelia Doobie, has fallen out with me! Why? Let
me tell you.
As you will have noticed from my address, you will see I stay
in Weir Court, this, if you were not aware is a High Rise type
of accommodation. I stay on the fourteenth floor, sixteen being
the tops ( sadly I do not speak metaphorically there ).
I am a trainee chef at Stevenson College specialising in
Continental Puff Pastry/Cakes/Plain and Fancy H.N.D 11.
My granny, Mrs Doobie, reached her 100 birthday on August 9.
She received her telegram and card from the Queen ( Elizabeth
11 ) and was looking forward to a " right,real,good old
fashioned knees-up " her very own words.
I had promised to make my granny her favourite cake, Cherry and
Nut Tea cake using a traditional melted fat method ( I could
send you the recipe if you'd like to try it? It's delicious and
very easy to make ).
A huge party had been arranged for grans special day, and she
told me she was really looking forward to getting " wired into
the cake " again her very own words.
I spent the week-end preparing her cake, I too was looking
forward to her party. After college on the Monday afternoon I
found myself standing waiting for the lift to slip gently to
the ground, I was tired but I had learnt how to make a good
Roulade Dessert Gateaux for under five pound so I was quite
happy with myself, I watched as the orange even numbers slowly
lit up, 14, then 12, then 10, then 8, then 6, then 4, then 2,
then STOP! then 4, then 6,then 8, then 10,then 12, then 14!
I sighed long and hard as chefs sometimes do.
14 became 12,then 10 then 8 then 6 then 4 then 2 then relief!
Why not take the odd numbered lift I hear you ask?
It was Knackered.
The lift doors opened and I had to step back, I could not see
into the lift for it seemed to be filled with a Misty Haar.
After a few seconds a brace of youths emerged from the smoke,
both sporting the traditional Sighthill Baseball cap, I tried
my best to waft away the strange smelling smoke with my August
edition of " Fun With Buns " but to no great avail.
I peered through the exotic aroma that lurked within the lift
and pressed 14.
By the time the lift had reached the second floor I found
myself giggling. By the third and fourth I had started to laugh
out loud. When the lift had reached the eighth floor I was
convinced my feet were talking to me, they were saying,
" YOU ARE STANDING ON MY TOES, PLEASE MOVE! "
At the tenth I realised it was not my feet talking but one of
my neighbours who is rather small, I could not see him at first
but by the time we had reached the 8th floor the smoke had calmed
down a little. I apologised to Mr Turnbull and suddenly felt
an incredible urge to eat the five pound bag of potatoes he
carried under his arm.
He got out of the lift rather angrily and just as the doors
were about to close a voice behind me said " Hold the doors "
A man and a woman also got out ( with their bicycles. )
As soon as I got into my flat, grannys cake was HISTORY,
along with 12 Mr Kipling mini apple tarts,4 kit-kats and a box
of Crunchy nut corn flakes.
Needless to say my granny was not amused when I turned up with
a Co-Op Strawberry Swiss Roll rather than her afore mentioned
favourite cake.
So, do you think that you could maybe help me to never fall out
with my gran again? All I ask is that you fit some kind of
filter system/vent that would divert any possible nasty smoke
from within the lift, perhaps it could be filtered through to
the Calder Surveillance Office, I was up there once to collect
an entry key for my flat and saw a few people who looked as
though they enjoyed that sort of inhalation?
Can you save my possible future inheritance? She has a lovely
Clarice Cliff tea-pot that I've had my eye on for awhile now.
I've also put on 2 stones and I am worried about this, the
stairs were once a few simple leaps and skips but now? Everest
with Arthurs seat on top.
I feel that with the imminent arrival of a smoking ban on the
horizon in public places that a fan or vent within the lifts
would be sensible and an essenstial necessity.
I look forward to hearing from you. The recipe offer still
stands.
Yours.
chap was out within the week to sort the problem! love the council!
JULIE HOGGEKISS
OUTSTANDING COMPLAINTS
EDINBURGH DISTRICT COUNCIL
WATERLOO PLACE.
Dear Julie Hoggekiss,
ROME was not built in a day, we all know why?
The council were in charge!
I can sympathise with Mrs Nero,
" Why I've sent off IV papyrus, III scrolls and IIV tablets!
We've been in this villa for V months now and we're still
waiting for a tiler to mosaic the bath-house! It would be
easier to build a wall from one side of the country to the
other than get a joiner to knock up a cupboard in your kitchen?
And it would be a hell'ova lot quicker too! I don't know? Now
where's that husband of mine? He said he was just going out
onto the veranda to play his fiddle...BY JUPITER! CAN ANYONE
SMELL BURNING? "
Julie, have things really not moved on within council circles?
I moved in 15.09.03. I handed in a REPAIR letter the next day,
I waited a week but heard nothing from the council.
I phoned the following week only to be told that they knew
nothing of my letter. Someone would look into the matter and
they would phone me back, can you guess what happened Julie?
Well someone did phone back! STOP! Only joking! No-one phoned
me back.
I phoned again and was told a Michael Harley/Harvey was dealing
with the matter and that he would be in touch. Now Julie, I
know you already know the answer to my next question! Well?
Correct! 'Course he didn't!
September came to an end without any more Council
correspondence.
I phoned WESTER HAILES DEPARTMENT in October, I spoke to a chap
called Tony? He said he would send out the INSPECTOR.
The INSPECTOR did indeed come out, in November!
The INSPECTOR told me I would get nothing done 'til after xmas,
ho,ho,ho.
I received a phone call in January to say that the joiner and
window-man would call Jan 26th P.M.They arrived 10.30 A.M?
Tuesday 27th plasterer and tiler would call, also chap to re-
enamel the bath and repair leaking toilet and fix sink to a
wall, preferably in the bath-room, and to repair air vent.
So,the tiler appears, but, he has to leave because the joiner
hadn't fixed the bath! BY JUPITER! I thought to myself, or
something a little more contemporary.
I phoned to find out what kind of huge spanner it was that had
been put into the works, I was told I had been put on a computer
for 'jobs to be done before 12 ' Julie, guess what?
Right again!
Now I've been told the next time someone can come out is Feb
6th P.M Joiner.
Thurs 12th Plumber.
This means another two days off my work added to the countless
others, do you think the service you give is fair?
I feel I have been very patient with the council, it seems the
council are quick to seize ones hard earned Denarius, council
tax and rents, you are equally quick to send out a reminder if
one misses a rent installment! Might I suggest a written
apology/phonecall from the council each time a joiner/plumber
or electrician fails to arrive on time or even fails to appear?
P.S Julie, I have an exciting idea for a new reality game-show,
instead of Bigged Boobed Blondes,ex Anarchists and Lord
Fraudsters and other so called celebs poncing around a jungle,
why not try this? Try and get a hold of a council
plumber/joiner/electrician on a wet Wednesday morning to call,
say after 8.00 A.M but before 5.00 PM? Impossible eh? You're
right! It's easier nowadays to get a celeb’ 'round to your
house! Jimmy Saville? He'll come 'round and seal in your bath,
and he usually brings his own biscuits with him, HOB-NOBS!
Richard and Judy I hear fit a really tight mortise and Terry
Wogan is a whizz with a light-bulb!
I make light of the matter but as the saying goes
You've got too laugh or else...
Please send out help asap..as they say in Rome, Tempus Fugit.
Yours.
chap was not out within the week!
PROJECT OFFICER.
Robert O'Malley Property Management
329 High Street
EDINBURGH EH1 1YH
Dear Mr O'Malley,
May I thank you from the bottom of my heart for the
installation of the new swimming pool situated between WEIR
COURT and HERMISTON COURT in SIGHTHILL.The ‘NEW’ pool has
replaced a concrete car park built in the days when concrete
was the new M.D.F.
The pool is lovely! Trouble is it only fills with water when
there is a slight downpour, I am aware we live in Scotland and
I believe we have the occasional touch of the wet stuff.
You see the problem is that when it does not rain, some would
argue that it does not STOP RAINING! The new pool looks like a
vast empty pot-holed wasteland lacking in any visible
pleasantness, character, charm, imagination, infact very
similar to the ambience one would feel if they were to visit
HAMPDEN PARK and sit through 90 mins of so called RE-DESIGNING!
Rumour has it that I am actually very wrong in thinking that
the above is a swimming pool and that what I can lovingly look
down apon from my penthouse in WEIR COURT is the new car park?
Sir I am astounded! I realise money makes the world, especially
the car parking design world go round BUT! Surely this cannot
be the end of the adventure here? Where is the tarmacadam
surface? The white lines? The numbers? Is the job REALLY
finished?
If this is the case, I recommend that residents of both the
COURTS, pop into MR MUSADDAQ's shop which is next to the
library and purchase a box of HUNDRED'S and THOUSANDS, these we
could gently sprinkle ontop of the unfinished car park surface,
perhaps to a depth of about 12" = 1 foot or 9" in council
arithmetic! This I feel would make a beautiful and rather sweet
topping for the surface. Glazed cherries and those wee diamond
sugary things could be used and would add a touch of panache.
We up here are not asking for a finish/surface of MOSAIC
grandeur found in ANCIENT ROME. We realise that LAPIS
LAZULI, ONYX and TERRACOTTA are expensive but money could be
found! Might I suggest taking a little out of the kitty for the
NEW SCOTTISH PARLIAMENT building? What if they were to maybe
use mere STAINLESS STEEL bathroom fittings rather than the
SADDAM style GOLD type? Cutting down on the DIAMOND encrusted
SLABS?
The RUBY pens filled with liquid GOLD? The HAGGIS wrapped in
fine embroidered SILK? Money is tight all round, but with a
little imagination the job could be finished properly.
Yours.
zilch!
Frank Russell Councillor
City Chambers
High Street
Edinburgh
EHI IYJ
Ref: Re-Landscaping and Demolition Of Car Park/ Drying Green
Areas.
Dear Mr Russell,
The above work has now been finished, unfortunately what has
been left in its place is a rather painful eyesore. The new car
park needs to be re-surfaced, the ground is uneven and has a
pock-marked surface, someone could easily come a cropper on
this dangerous, rubble strewn monstrosity.
Come and have a look at Sighthill in 2003 Mr Russell and see
for yourself the work that has taken place.
P.S if coming by car may I recommend using the car park
facilities within Sighthill Medical Centre, flat, white
lines,perfect.
Yours Faithfully
was invited to plant first silver birch tree as part of the new landscaping/carpark!
no i wasn't, more zilch!
Dan,
It has taken me ages to read this.
I had to keep stopping and wipe my eyes. I have laughed so hard, my sides hurt.
I gotta tell you mate, you have a great sense of humour.
I particularly loved the one about your grans cake. I almost wet my pants, lol.
You gotta do something with these Dan.
You are a natural born comedy writer.
Thing is, you have spoilt me. I want more.
No pressure mate, but I will be looking forward to the next post.
I need my fix, lol.
Great stuff.
It has taken me ages to read this.
I had to keep stopping and wipe my eyes. I have laughed so hard, my sides hurt.
I gotta tell you mate, you have a great sense of humour.
I particularly loved the one about your grans cake. I almost wet my pants, lol.
You gotta do something with these Dan.
You are a natural born comedy writer.
Thing is, you have spoilt me. I want more.
No pressure mate, but I will be looking forward to the next post.
I need my fix, lol.
Great stuff.
-
wildmountainthyme
- Persistent Poster
- Posts: 153
- Joined: Tue Jun 10, 2008 4:41 pm
thanks p5. i'm glad you enjoyed them. i will post up some others. i will wait to see how you get on with jeremy kyle? good luck.
dan
dan
I've had a go Dan,
nowhere near your standard, but hey, here goes.
ps, It's not Jeremy Kyle
Specsavers
Redcar High Street,
Teeside.
Dear sir/madam,
firstly, let me apologise in advance for any typo’s.
I can’t see the layout of the keyboard very clearly.
All the letters are running into each other, and I am having to rely on memory. (I am so glad I did that “Computing for the petrified” course down at my local Initiative Centre. It has proven to be well worth the £18.00 fee. Although at the time I thought it quite steep, as I was on jobseekers allowance, and this was quite a chunk out of my £50.00 a fortnight benefit.
I only agreed to go on the course, because my best friends brother works behind the counter in the little coffee shop they have there, and I was hoping to catch his eye, and maybe impress him with my typing skills.
I also gained an NVQ level1 qualification, which, I am told, will open lots of office doors for me.
I quite fancy a job as a secretary, or even an admin assistant. If you happen to have any vacancies in that department, now, or in the near future, I will happily send you my CV, along with a covering letter, outlining my previous employment details, and hobbies.)
Anyway, getting back to the reason as to why I am contacting you.
I recently spent an afternoon in your newly re-furbished store (great choice of colours by the way. I always fancied grey and teal for my living room. It gives a very contemporary, relaxing feel.)
as I needed to purchase a new pair of glasses (obviously). I was very embarrassed to be walking around in my current pair, as they were held together with low tack masking tape (it was all I could find at the time) due to the unfortunate accident which occurred the night before, whilst playing “Adult Twister“, with a couple of Bacardi and coke’s inside of me. I wont go into detail, but lets just say, I won’t be able to join in that particular activity for the foreseeable future, at least until my ribs heal, and I make up with my friend, and her brother (remember, the one I was telling you about, who works in the coffee shop. I have totally blew my chances with him now.)
One of your assistants, a friendly girl called Louise, who was sporting a very attractive pair of pinky/purpley pair of spectacles, approached me, and offered to help me chose some new frames. I immediately took her up on the offer,
1, because I thought to myself, well she obviously has taste, cos her specs are lovely, and
2, I can’t see a thing when I take my glasses off, so I wouldn’t have a clue what the heck I looked like.
Plus, that huge green sticker that is always stuck right in the middle of the lens always throws me off kilty.
So here she is, offering me all these new frames to try on, ( I noticed that she steered me to the “Designer Range”. The most expensive, and here’s me on a budget. I only wanted to spend fifty quid, max, and their starting price was £125.00 just for the frame. But I thought “Sod it. I’ll push the boat out for once, n treat myself.” ) and giving me the mirror to take a look, and me saying “I can’t see a bloody thing. What do you think?”
It went on for hours. We were both getting a little frayed around the edges, when she suggested that I try on the frames that she was wearing, as I had already told her that I really liked them on her.
“Ooh” she cooed, “Yeah, they really suit you.”
Well by this time, I was so sick and tired of trying on specs, that I took her word for it, and agreed to have them made up to my prescription, and would collect them 1 hour later. (A fantastic service you provide, by the way. Especially as I had to walk around the town with my taped up specs on, 1 hour is long enough to be sniggered at.)
I returned to your shop, and duly waited to be summoned over for the fitting of my new spectacles.
Louise was nowhere to be seen.
My name was called, and over I go, all excited to collect my very expensive “Designer” glasses. Of course, I still didn’t know what I looked like in them,
and felt slightly self conscious in front of the very attractive young man (I couldn’t read his name badge, as I didn’t have my specs on at the time) who was just an inch away from my face, and was bending my ears back, to check if they fitted me ok. (I was so glad I was sucking on a mint.) I blushed, all girlie like, paid for my specs and left the shop.
I threw my taped up glasses into a nearby trash can, and proudly made my way to the bus depot for my bus home.
Once home, I raced to the mirror to get a look at myself in my swanky new specs. I cannot put into words the disappointment, and sheer horror I felt at my reflection. I looked a complete and utter pratt.
The colour and shaped did not suit me at all. I strongly believe that Louise had obviously grown tired of my indecisiveness, and just wanted to get off on her lunch break, so she fobbed me off with insincere compliments. (I bet she had a bloody good laugh with her mates at my expense.) There is no way on God’s green earth, that I could possibly stride around in these hideous glasses. I am currently wearing a pair of sunglasses that I got made up for myself while on holiday in Turkey in July, (Bodrum. Lovely place. Have you ever been? There‘s some great package deals to be had in Thomas Cook at the moment. ), but as you can appreciate, they are not really suitable indoor eyewear, or outdoor at the moment, considering it is mid November, and it is pouring down right now.
I have tried explaining my situation to David, (over the phone, I may add, as I daren’t leave the house) your head of the collections department. (I discovered that he is the one who fitted me. His personality does not match his face) and he says that there is nothing that can be done for me, as I chose the frames.
I feel very frustrated, and slightly embarrassed by my situation, and hope that you can offer me some sort of solution. I don’t have the price of another pair of glasses. The pinky/purple ones wiped me out.
As a loyal and longstanding customer (coming up 25 years. Ever since I was 2 years old, and my sister threw me down the stairs. When my mum lifted me up, both my eyes were fighting for the same corner.
Been with you ever since.)
I look forward to hearing from you.
You can phone me anytime. I don’t go out these days.
Yours
nowhere near your standard, but hey, here goes.
ps, It's not Jeremy Kyle
Specsavers
Redcar High Street,
Teeside.
Dear sir/madam,
firstly, let me apologise in advance for any typo’s.
I can’t see the layout of the keyboard very clearly.
All the letters are running into each other, and I am having to rely on memory. (I am so glad I did that “Computing for the petrified” course down at my local Initiative Centre. It has proven to be well worth the £18.00 fee. Although at the time I thought it quite steep, as I was on jobseekers allowance, and this was quite a chunk out of my £50.00 a fortnight benefit.
I only agreed to go on the course, because my best friends brother works behind the counter in the little coffee shop they have there, and I was hoping to catch his eye, and maybe impress him with my typing skills.
I also gained an NVQ level1 qualification, which, I am told, will open lots of office doors for me.
I quite fancy a job as a secretary, or even an admin assistant. If you happen to have any vacancies in that department, now, or in the near future, I will happily send you my CV, along with a covering letter, outlining my previous employment details, and hobbies.)
Anyway, getting back to the reason as to why I am contacting you.
I recently spent an afternoon in your newly re-furbished store (great choice of colours by the way. I always fancied grey and teal for my living room. It gives a very contemporary, relaxing feel.)
as I needed to purchase a new pair of glasses (obviously). I was very embarrassed to be walking around in my current pair, as they were held together with low tack masking tape (it was all I could find at the time) due to the unfortunate accident which occurred the night before, whilst playing “Adult Twister“, with a couple of Bacardi and coke’s inside of me. I wont go into detail, but lets just say, I won’t be able to join in that particular activity for the foreseeable future, at least until my ribs heal, and I make up with my friend, and her brother (remember, the one I was telling you about, who works in the coffee shop. I have totally blew my chances with him now.)
One of your assistants, a friendly girl called Louise, who was sporting a very attractive pair of pinky/purpley pair of spectacles, approached me, and offered to help me chose some new frames. I immediately took her up on the offer,
1, because I thought to myself, well she obviously has taste, cos her specs are lovely, and
2, I can’t see a thing when I take my glasses off, so I wouldn’t have a clue what the heck I looked like.
Plus, that huge green sticker that is always stuck right in the middle of the lens always throws me off kilty.
So here she is, offering me all these new frames to try on, ( I noticed that she steered me to the “Designer Range”. The most expensive, and here’s me on a budget. I only wanted to spend fifty quid, max, and their starting price was £125.00 just for the frame. But I thought “Sod it. I’ll push the boat out for once, n treat myself.” ) and giving me the mirror to take a look, and me saying “I can’t see a bloody thing. What do you think?”
It went on for hours. We were both getting a little frayed around the edges, when she suggested that I try on the frames that she was wearing, as I had already told her that I really liked them on her.
“Ooh” she cooed, “Yeah, they really suit you.”
Well by this time, I was so sick and tired of trying on specs, that I took her word for it, and agreed to have them made up to my prescription, and would collect them 1 hour later. (A fantastic service you provide, by the way. Especially as I had to walk around the town with my taped up specs on, 1 hour is long enough to be sniggered at.)
I returned to your shop, and duly waited to be summoned over for the fitting of my new spectacles.
Louise was nowhere to be seen.
My name was called, and over I go, all excited to collect my very expensive “Designer” glasses. Of course, I still didn’t know what I looked like in them,
and felt slightly self conscious in front of the very attractive young man (I couldn’t read his name badge, as I didn’t have my specs on at the time) who was just an inch away from my face, and was bending my ears back, to check if they fitted me ok. (I was so glad I was sucking on a mint.) I blushed, all girlie like, paid for my specs and left the shop.
I threw my taped up glasses into a nearby trash can, and proudly made my way to the bus depot for my bus home.
Once home, I raced to the mirror to get a look at myself in my swanky new specs. I cannot put into words the disappointment, and sheer horror I felt at my reflection. I looked a complete and utter pratt.
The colour and shaped did not suit me at all. I strongly believe that Louise had obviously grown tired of my indecisiveness, and just wanted to get off on her lunch break, so she fobbed me off with insincere compliments. (I bet she had a bloody good laugh with her mates at my expense.) There is no way on God’s green earth, that I could possibly stride around in these hideous glasses. I am currently wearing a pair of sunglasses that I got made up for myself while on holiday in Turkey in July, (Bodrum. Lovely place. Have you ever been? There‘s some great package deals to be had in Thomas Cook at the moment. ), but as you can appreciate, they are not really suitable indoor eyewear, or outdoor at the moment, considering it is mid November, and it is pouring down right now.
I have tried explaining my situation to David, (over the phone, I may add, as I daren’t leave the house) your head of the collections department. (I discovered that he is the one who fitted me. His personality does not match his face) and he says that there is nothing that can be done for me, as I chose the frames.
I feel very frustrated, and slightly embarrassed by my situation, and hope that you can offer me some sort of solution. I don’t have the price of another pair of glasses. The pinky/purple ones wiped me out.
As a loyal and longstanding customer (coming up 25 years. Ever since I was 2 years old, and my sister threw me down the stairs. When my mum lifted me up, both my eyes were fighting for the same corner.
Been with you ever since.)
I look forward to hearing from you.
You can phone me anytime. I don’t go out these days.
Yours
-
wildmountainthyme
- Persistent Poster
- Posts: 153
- Joined: Tue Jun 10, 2008 4:41 pm
hi pauline, you have learned well young master. very good. some really nice lines, liked the thrown down the stairs....brilliant! you are a funny girl. look forward to more of your nonsense!
dan
dan
-
wildmountainthyme
- Persistent Poster
- Posts: 153
- Joined: Tue Jun 10, 2008 4:41 pm
i hope you sent this off?
Hiya Dan,
here is my letter to Jeremy Kyle,
lol
Jeremy Kyle
Granada studios
Manchester
Dear Jeremy,
Can I start off by saying I am your no1 fan.
I watch you every day, (well for the last 4 months anyway, since I have been off school cos I am stuck at home with a new baby. This is wot I wanna talk to you about, but I’ll get round to that in a minute) and I love the way that you take no shit off some of the skunners that you have on your programme. God, I wouldn’t dare be them, showin meself up on telly like that. Scruffy jiffers.) You just tell em how it is, and I just love that. No bullshit, just straight down the line plain talking.
Anyway’s, like I said, I have just had a baby.
He is called Dwaine (after his dad) Nelson (after some African guy who Dwaine knows. I think he knows him from prison, which is where he is now, for mugging some old lady cos he was wrappless and he needed some dosh for a bit of skunk cos he was dead stressed out about me being up the stick, and he didn’t mean to push her over and break her arm. He thought that she would just let go of her bag, but she was a tough old bird, and she battered him with her shopping trolley before he managed to run away.
His black eyes took two weeks to clear up. He looked a right clip, and I was dead shown up cos I had to walk around wiv im lookin like that, before he got caught and got banged up. He said Nelson had been locked up for ages and he really looked up to him, or after him, I can’t remember cos I weren’t taking much notice, as I was on me mobile talkin to me friend Ebony about baby stuff n that, but I liked the name) Leroy.
Anyway’s, the thing is. I got a phone call from Dwaine. He’s getting out of prison in two months, and he said that he doesn’t want nowt to do wiv me and Dwaine junior, cos he doesn’t believe he is the dad.
I said “whadda ya mean by that like?”, and he says that him and his mates call me “chopper“ cos they reckon I’m a bit of a bike, and the dad could be anyone of the lads in our gang.
I can’t believe it cos I have not been sleepin around.
Yes I have got drunk a few times, and found meself waking up in a few strange places ( always fully clothed, although me pants were on the wrong way round, but I would have known if summat had of happened, wouldn’t I ?) but I’m only young and am aving a laff n tha.
The thing is, I was wondering if me an Dwaine came on your show, would you be able to do one of them DNA tests so I could prove to Dwaine that he is the dad? (He has the same nose and curly hair and everything)
We would need help in getting there, an stayin ova cos I don’t have much money , cos I’m a one parent family as far as the social are concerned, cos Dwaine
isn’t on the birth certificate, and doesn’t cop up for me an the kid, as he is still in prison, and he hasn’t said he is the dad n tha.
I wanna prove to him that I’m not a chopper, an that he is the dad.
That lovely Graham who’s on your show (is he the one who’s on Cilla Black’s show “Blind Date? I love that show as well. Not as much as you mind), might be able to help me and Dwaine sort stuff out.
Can you let me know in plenty of time so’s I can get a babysitter, cos me mam will only mind Dwaine Jnr on a Wednesday, as that is the only night that she stays in, cos the turn in the club is shite and she wont waste her money watching old folk doing the “St Bernards waltz” and other crap dances like that.
I look forward to meeting you and Graham, and getting this shit sorted out.
Tara for now,
Yours
here is my letter to Jeremy Kyle,
lol
Jeremy Kyle
Granada studios
Manchester
Dear Jeremy,
Can I start off by saying I am your no1 fan.
I watch you every day, (well for the last 4 months anyway, since I have been off school cos I am stuck at home with a new baby. This is wot I wanna talk to you about, but I’ll get round to that in a minute) and I love the way that you take no shit off some of the skunners that you have on your programme. God, I wouldn’t dare be them, showin meself up on telly like that. Scruffy jiffers.) You just tell em how it is, and I just love that. No bullshit, just straight down the line plain talking.
Anyway’s, like I said, I have just had a baby.
He is called Dwaine (after his dad) Nelson (after some African guy who Dwaine knows. I think he knows him from prison, which is where he is now, for mugging some old lady cos he was wrappless and he needed some dosh for a bit of skunk cos he was dead stressed out about me being up the stick, and he didn’t mean to push her over and break her arm. He thought that she would just let go of her bag, but she was a tough old bird, and she battered him with her shopping trolley before he managed to run away.
His black eyes took two weeks to clear up. He looked a right clip, and I was dead shown up cos I had to walk around wiv im lookin like that, before he got caught and got banged up. He said Nelson had been locked up for ages and he really looked up to him, or after him, I can’t remember cos I weren’t taking much notice, as I was on me mobile talkin to me friend Ebony about baby stuff n that, but I liked the name) Leroy.
Anyway’s, the thing is. I got a phone call from Dwaine. He’s getting out of prison in two months, and he said that he doesn’t want nowt to do wiv me and Dwaine junior, cos he doesn’t believe he is the dad.
I said “whadda ya mean by that like?”, and he says that him and his mates call me “chopper“ cos they reckon I’m a bit of a bike, and the dad could be anyone of the lads in our gang.
I can’t believe it cos I have not been sleepin around.
Yes I have got drunk a few times, and found meself waking up in a few strange places ( always fully clothed, although me pants were on the wrong way round, but I would have known if summat had of happened, wouldn’t I ?) but I’m only young and am aving a laff n tha.
The thing is, I was wondering if me an Dwaine came on your show, would you be able to do one of them DNA tests so I could prove to Dwaine that he is the dad? (He has the same nose and curly hair and everything)
We would need help in getting there, an stayin ova cos I don’t have much money , cos I’m a one parent family as far as the social are concerned, cos Dwaine
isn’t on the birth certificate, and doesn’t cop up for me an the kid, as he is still in prison, and he hasn’t said he is the dad n tha.
I wanna prove to him that I’m not a chopper, an that he is the dad.
That lovely Graham who’s on your show (is he the one who’s on Cilla Black’s show “Blind Date? I love that show as well. Not as much as you mind), might be able to help me and Dwaine sort stuff out.
Can you let me know in plenty of time so’s I can get a babysitter, cos me mam will only mind Dwaine Jnr on a Wednesday, as that is the only night that she stays in, cos the turn in the club is shite and she wont waste her money watching old folk doing the “St Bernards waltz” and other crap dances like that.
I look forward to meeting you and Graham, and getting this shit sorted out.
Tara for now,
Yours
-
wildmountainthyme
- Persistent Poster
- Posts: 153
- Joined: Tue Jun 10, 2008 4:41 pm
hi pauline,
very good. what a tale! you've moved on to level 2 young master. some fab words in there, local words, i'm looking forward to seeing this show! very realistic! i am starting to become your biggest fan.
dan
very good. what a tale! you've moved on to level 2 young master. some fab words in there, local words, i'm looking forward to seeing this show! very realistic! i am starting to become your biggest fan.
dan
Ha ha.
Cheers Dan.
Here, whadda ya think about Noel Edmunds Lol
Noel Edmonds
Channel 4
Bristol
Dear Noel,
I just want to start by saying that I am your biggest fan.
I’m sure that you get lots of people saying this, but I really am your no1 fan. I have watched you ever since you were on Saturday Swap Shop (and we are going back a few more years than I would like to admit ) with that irritating Keith Chegwin (God, he got on my nerves. Still does. I see him pop up on GMTV every now and then promoting those daft competitions. You know, when you have to answer those simple questions any three year old would know the answer to, and you can win a holiday for fifteen to outer Mongolia.
He is like Zebedee on speed. Is he on drugs or something. There is no way on Gods green earth that anyone could be so happy and in your face without taking some sort of stimulant. Does he drink a lot of Red bull, or have you ever noticed any little white particles around nostrils? ) I once phoned in because I wanted to swap my brand new Kerplunk (still in the celophane as I had received two for Christmas. My aunty Christine bought a job lot from some guy who works for ToysRus, and dished them out to all her nieces and nephews, without letting my mum know. It could have saved her a few bob, plus I may have got the roller boots I was desperate for) for a pair or roller skates , as these were the nearest thing to roller boots that I so so really wanted, but I was piped to the post by Sharon from Middlesex, who was offering an etch-a-sketch plus a poster of David Cassidy. I was gutted.
Anyway, that aside.
The reason I am getting in touch with you is because I have desperately been trying to get onto Deal or no Deal (My husband has been sacked from his job down at the steelworks because he kept falling asleep on his 6 till 2 shift as he was so tired, due to the fact that he had had no sleep, as he had been up all night because he was worried about the 2 new kittens we have recently got, who weren’t coming home, and he couldn’t settle until we got a cat flap installed and they could let themselves in) as money is so tight these days, and I am past myself trying to eek out my family allowance, and my wages from the part time job I do down at the local sun bed shop (£6.50 an hour sounds good, but I am only doing 15 hours a week. Not enough to raise 4 kids and an ex steelworker who likes to have meat on his plate for every meal, plus Smokey bacon sandwiches for breakfast every day)
I have been phoning the number advertised on your website, and I just can’t get passed “The lines are engaged. Please try again.”
I dream about being welcomed to the “Dream Factory”.
I am desperate to do “The walk of wealth” and hopefully get us out of this dire situation.
I would also love the opportunity to spend a couple of weeks living it up in the hotel, meeting so many “fantastic people.” ( it will be the only holiday I get this year)
If I was successful in getting on the show, I would play the game for what it is.
Go all the way,(I’m well known for that, but for different reasons lol) as I have nothing to loose.
I would also like to have a bit of craic with the banker, as he seems to have a dry sense of humour,
and I think we may hit it off .
If you could possibly arrange this I would be so grateful.
This isn’t a bribe, but I have bought you a lovely shirt from Matalan, in thanks for your attempt to help me get on the show. (It’s an unusual shade of beige/gold with delicate pattern of butterflies nibbling on the nectar of black calla lilly. My favourite flower. I do hope you like it.)
I know that it will go with the snug jeans that you wear, and wont clash with your hair colour.
I look forward to hearing from you regarding a position on the east/west wing.
Thanks noel,
yours
Cheers Dan.
Here, whadda ya think about Noel Edmunds Lol
Noel Edmonds
Channel 4
Bristol
Dear Noel,
I just want to start by saying that I am your biggest fan.
I’m sure that you get lots of people saying this, but I really am your no1 fan. I have watched you ever since you were on Saturday Swap Shop (and we are going back a few more years than I would like to admit ) with that irritating Keith Chegwin (God, he got on my nerves. Still does. I see him pop up on GMTV every now and then promoting those daft competitions. You know, when you have to answer those simple questions any three year old would know the answer to, and you can win a holiday for fifteen to outer Mongolia.
He is like Zebedee on speed. Is he on drugs or something. There is no way on Gods green earth that anyone could be so happy and in your face without taking some sort of stimulant. Does he drink a lot of Red bull, or have you ever noticed any little white particles around nostrils? ) I once phoned in because I wanted to swap my brand new Kerplunk (still in the celophane as I had received two for Christmas. My aunty Christine bought a job lot from some guy who works for ToysRus, and dished them out to all her nieces and nephews, without letting my mum know. It could have saved her a few bob, plus I may have got the roller boots I was desperate for) for a pair or roller skates , as these were the nearest thing to roller boots that I so so really wanted, but I was piped to the post by Sharon from Middlesex, who was offering an etch-a-sketch plus a poster of David Cassidy. I was gutted.
Anyway, that aside.
The reason I am getting in touch with you is because I have desperately been trying to get onto Deal or no Deal (My husband has been sacked from his job down at the steelworks because he kept falling asleep on his 6 till 2 shift as he was so tired, due to the fact that he had had no sleep, as he had been up all night because he was worried about the 2 new kittens we have recently got, who weren’t coming home, and he couldn’t settle until we got a cat flap installed and they could let themselves in) as money is so tight these days, and I am past myself trying to eek out my family allowance, and my wages from the part time job I do down at the local sun bed shop (£6.50 an hour sounds good, but I am only doing 15 hours a week. Not enough to raise 4 kids and an ex steelworker who likes to have meat on his plate for every meal, plus Smokey bacon sandwiches for breakfast every day)
I have been phoning the number advertised on your website, and I just can’t get passed “The lines are engaged. Please try again.”
I dream about being welcomed to the “Dream Factory”.
I am desperate to do “The walk of wealth” and hopefully get us out of this dire situation.
I would also love the opportunity to spend a couple of weeks living it up in the hotel, meeting so many “fantastic people.” ( it will be the only holiday I get this year)
If I was successful in getting on the show, I would play the game for what it is.
Go all the way,(I’m well known for that, but for different reasons lol) as I have nothing to loose.
I would also like to have a bit of craic with the banker, as he seems to have a dry sense of humour,
and I think we may hit it off .
If you could possibly arrange this I would be so grateful.
This isn’t a bribe, but I have bought you a lovely shirt from Matalan, in thanks for your attempt to help me get on the show. (It’s an unusual shade of beige/gold with delicate pattern of butterflies nibbling on the nectar of black calla lilly. My favourite flower. I do hope you like it.)
I know that it will go with the snug jeans that you wear, and wont clash with your hair colour.
I look forward to hearing from you regarding a position on the east/west wing.
Thanks noel,
yours
-
wildmountainthyme
- Persistent Poster
- Posts: 153
- Joined: Tue Jun 10, 2008 4:41 pm
brilliant pauline!i like your style. you've got your golden ticket.
noel edmonds,he does wear jeans that are far too tight, creepy! i can't watch him, i'm diabetic!
this is an oldie........dan
yours.....
The Judges
The Turner Art Prize.
26/05/04
Dear Turner Art prize Judges,
I would like to begin by saying that I am The Turner Prizes biggest fan.
I never thought it possible that I could ever consider myself to be known as an ‘Artist’. I have no formal training and thankfully still have both my ears! (Reference to Vincent Van Cough, he cut off one of his ears after running out of blue paint! Artists eh?)
I do not know what it is like to suffer that dilemma of when to apply that final stroke, that little flick of the wrist that finally completes ones latest creation, maybe I can’t call myself a true artist because I am really quite a happy and cheerful person?
I have been following the ‘Turners’ for quite a few wonderful years now and thought my lack of artistic ability would hinder my chances of ever achieving my goal of making it as a top British Dauber, but it seems that this total lack of any real talent is considered to be all that is required to be a success in the art world and will probably mean that if I enter this years competition I will win it?
So please could you send me out an application form a.s.a.p? (As soon as possible.)
I was lucky enough to be standing, with video camera in hand, near a warehouse in Leyton on Wednesday 26th May 2004.
This warehouse was on fire! As I fought to get closer I overheard two policemen say that this warehouse contained some of Britain’s top new art, Brit-Art I believe it is called. I screamed in horror as I realized fine works of art by Tracey Eminem and Damien Hearse were burning, burning, burning, burn them all, inside! I must have looked like that poor wee soul in that famously frightening painting ‘ Ice Scream’ by Edward Monkey, I now know how that little lad felt in that painting, you see I too have waited patiently in line, sun beating down, 50p gleaming in my tiny hand, in the cue at the ice-cream van only to be told, as it eventually came to my turn to be served, that they had run out of ice-cream! (I settled huffily for a Curly-Wurly instead, and 25 Black-Jacks).
As the flames engulfed the warehouse I was pulled back by the firefighters on numerous occasions as I tried in vain to get closer to the action.
Still, I did manage to capture the happy event on my camera and after some small editing I will enter my little fiery masterpiece into the next
competition. I will call it, ‘ Justice Was Done’ (with a cherry on top).
So please send me out that form, a.s.a.p (as soon as…).
Please keep up the great and important work you do and I will see you at next year’s awards ceremony?
Yours………
noel edmonds,he does wear jeans that are far too tight, creepy! i can't watch him, i'm diabetic!
this is an oldie........dan
yours.....
The Judges
The Turner Art Prize.
26/05/04
Dear Turner Art prize Judges,
I would like to begin by saying that I am The Turner Prizes biggest fan.
I never thought it possible that I could ever consider myself to be known as an ‘Artist’. I have no formal training and thankfully still have both my ears! (Reference to Vincent Van Cough, he cut off one of his ears after running out of blue paint! Artists eh?)
I do not know what it is like to suffer that dilemma of when to apply that final stroke, that little flick of the wrist that finally completes ones latest creation, maybe I can’t call myself a true artist because I am really quite a happy and cheerful person?
I have been following the ‘Turners’ for quite a few wonderful years now and thought my lack of artistic ability would hinder my chances of ever achieving my goal of making it as a top British Dauber, but it seems that this total lack of any real talent is considered to be all that is required to be a success in the art world and will probably mean that if I enter this years competition I will win it?
So please could you send me out an application form a.s.a.p? (As soon as possible.)
I was lucky enough to be standing, with video camera in hand, near a warehouse in Leyton on Wednesday 26th May 2004.
This warehouse was on fire! As I fought to get closer I overheard two policemen say that this warehouse contained some of Britain’s top new art, Brit-Art I believe it is called. I screamed in horror as I realized fine works of art by Tracey Eminem and Damien Hearse were burning, burning, burning, burn them all, inside! I must have looked like that poor wee soul in that famously frightening painting ‘ Ice Scream’ by Edward Monkey, I now know how that little lad felt in that painting, you see I too have waited patiently in line, sun beating down, 50p gleaming in my tiny hand, in the cue at the ice-cream van only to be told, as it eventually came to my turn to be served, that they had run out of ice-cream! (I settled huffily for a Curly-Wurly instead, and 25 Black-Jacks).
As the flames engulfed the warehouse I was pulled back by the firefighters on numerous occasions as I tried in vain to get closer to the action.
Still, I did manage to capture the happy event on my camera and after some small editing I will enter my little fiery masterpiece into the next
competition. I will call it, ‘ Justice Was Done’ (with a cherry on top).
So please send me out that form, a.s.a.p (as soon as…).
Please keep up the great and important work you do and I will see you at next year’s awards ceremony?
Yours………
Here you go Dan.
Long time coming.
O2 Insurance claims.
PO box 7135
Witham CM8 2WF
13/12/10
Dear sir/madam
I am writing to you regarding a claim I submitted on 29/11/10 regarding my recently acquired Iphone 4.1 (8b117) Model MC603B, Serial Number 758945550.
A fabulous device which has dragged me into the 21st century.
I visited your newly refurbished, beautifully decorated store in Middlesbrough (was the design by any chance influenced by John Amabile, the Scottish fella from 60 minute makeover? The dramatic dark walnut flooring and brick wall to one side is so him) clutching a fiver in my hand to top up my Motorola MC750. Yes I know it’s an old phone. It’s the size of a wheelie bin and my friends always laugh when I have to lift my antenna to receive a call, but hey, it works absolutely fine and if it’s good enough for Michael Douglas (Wall street: Money never sleeps) then it’s good enough for me.
I was approached by Jay, a young attractive salesman who sweet talked me (rather easily) into purchasing the new Iphone 4. He promoted this fabulous device so convincingly, advising me that not only will I be able to download the complete works of Shakespeare to peruse at my leisure, I can also upload as many of Jamie Oliver’s 30 minute 3 course meal recipes as I want and so much more. ( in the couple of days that I had the phone, I amazed quite a few of my friends with my (well Jamie’s) grilled lamb kofta kebabs with pistachios and spicy salad wrap, followed by a rather pleasing carrot cake with lime mascarpone icing, washed down with a creamy rhubarb and vodka cocktail.) I am now parting with £45.00 a month for a 2 year contract, plus £15.00 insurance.
I’m still going to hang on to my old phone as a back up but I will say that since I have stopped carrying it around I find the ache in my left shoulder has eased up tremendously and I am walking a lot better these days. I used to veer off to the left but I put it down to the fact my shoes needed heeling.
Getting back to my claim.
I had only been in possession of my amazing handset for two days, when I experienced a most unfortunate accident.
Do you recall the weekend of 29/11/10.
Oh my God! I shall never forget it.
We had the heaviest downfall of snow ever recorded,
temperatures of minus 27 and dropping (I know this for a fact because I checked it out on my free local/worldwide weather app) and here’s me wearing fashion boots ( my wellies got completely wrecked at Leeds music festival after an explosive weekend overdosing on vodka , pot noodles, an abundance of Bombay mix, jagermeister shots and the fact that I couldn’t get the zip of the tent door up ) trying to dig out my car which was buried under three foot of snow.
Whilst I was franticly digging my way out of my dilemma,
my phone, which was nestled quite comfortably and safely in my body warmer pocket, somehow managed to wriggle free and plop silently into a mound of yellow snow (next doors Rottweiler. He can piss on the wheels of my car anytime he wants, I aint gonna argue with him).
The gold hard backed phone protector designed to look like a bling ingot blended invisibly into the golden mound.
It was only when the yellow mountain started to vibrate
and belt out Whitney Houston’s “I’m every woman” that I twigged on my precious Iphone 4 was freezing its sim card off.
I scooped up my sorry new purchase and franticly tried to dry it off on my cosy body warmer, but Whitney’s exaggerated warble and duff notes told me something was drastically wrong.
My phoned was fucked.
I couldn’t turn her off.
My favourite song was now getting on my nerves and I was paying sixty quid for the pleasure.
I threw my shovel over my pain free left shoulder and took a slippery walk into town.
I spotted Jay as soon as I skidded into the O2 shop and told him what had happened.
He was very sympathetic and assured me that I was covered by insurance.
The smoulder from his beautiful dark brown eyes brought feeling back into my frozen feet, hands and cheeks.
By the time he had changed my ringtone we had booked a date for the following day. A meal, few drinks and afterwards back to his place. He wants to show me his Pokemon collection. He has every card, figurine and anything else to do with the beasts. I couldn’t wait to see them. I myself own a 3 foot Pikachu and a number of rare trading cards. I won these by taking part in a phone in competition on Smooth Radio purely by accident.
I was trying to get through to Curry’s to complain about my American fridge freezer. The ice maker keeps on spitting out ice cubes and I’ve found myself flat on my back on several occasions whilst walking through the kitchen to make myself a café latte after a particularly heavy night on the amber nectar. Next thing, I find myself live on air talking to Graeme Smith about what cartoon character I would compare myself to and I came up with Pikachu. I know she is short and yellow and looks cute, I’m short and cute and if I keep on drinking the amber nectar the way I do, I soon will be yellow with liver failure lol.
Hey Ho, I won the comp, and gladly took delivery of my 3 foot pikachu and various other memorabilia 2 weeks later.
He’s told me I can look but not touch. I’ve told him the same thing.
I do hope you can sort out my claim quickly as I have invited Jay over for a cosy meal and I want to impress him
with an amazing recipe for Spaghetti alla puttanesca I saw on “Come dine with me “ hosted in Birmingham and created by a Rastafarian 20 stone blond lass who was game for a laugh.
I look forward to hearing from you in the near future.
Yours
Long time coming.
O2 Insurance claims.
PO box 7135
Witham CM8 2WF
13/12/10
Dear sir/madam
I am writing to you regarding a claim I submitted on 29/11/10 regarding my recently acquired Iphone 4.1 (8b117) Model MC603B, Serial Number 758945550.
A fabulous device which has dragged me into the 21st century.
I visited your newly refurbished, beautifully decorated store in Middlesbrough (was the design by any chance influenced by John Amabile, the Scottish fella from 60 minute makeover? The dramatic dark walnut flooring and brick wall to one side is so him) clutching a fiver in my hand to top up my Motorola MC750. Yes I know it’s an old phone. It’s the size of a wheelie bin and my friends always laugh when I have to lift my antenna to receive a call, but hey, it works absolutely fine and if it’s good enough for Michael Douglas (Wall street: Money never sleeps) then it’s good enough for me.
I was approached by Jay, a young attractive salesman who sweet talked me (rather easily) into purchasing the new Iphone 4. He promoted this fabulous device so convincingly, advising me that not only will I be able to download the complete works of Shakespeare to peruse at my leisure, I can also upload as many of Jamie Oliver’s 30 minute 3 course meal recipes as I want and so much more. ( in the couple of days that I had the phone, I amazed quite a few of my friends with my (well Jamie’s) grilled lamb kofta kebabs with pistachios and spicy salad wrap, followed by a rather pleasing carrot cake with lime mascarpone icing, washed down with a creamy rhubarb and vodka cocktail.) I am now parting with £45.00 a month for a 2 year contract, plus £15.00 insurance.
I’m still going to hang on to my old phone as a back up but I will say that since I have stopped carrying it around I find the ache in my left shoulder has eased up tremendously and I am walking a lot better these days. I used to veer off to the left but I put it down to the fact my shoes needed heeling.
Getting back to my claim.
I had only been in possession of my amazing handset for two days, when I experienced a most unfortunate accident.
Do you recall the weekend of 29/11/10.
Oh my God! I shall never forget it.
We had the heaviest downfall of snow ever recorded,
temperatures of minus 27 and dropping (I know this for a fact because I checked it out on my free local/worldwide weather app) and here’s me wearing fashion boots ( my wellies got completely wrecked at Leeds music festival after an explosive weekend overdosing on vodka , pot noodles, an abundance of Bombay mix, jagermeister shots and the fact that I couldn’t get the zip of the tent door up ) trying to dig out my car which was buried under three foot of snow.
Whilst I was franticly digging my way out of my dilemma,
my phone, which was nestled quite comfortably and safely in my body warmer pocket, somehow managed to wriggle free and plop silently into a mound of yellow snow (next doors Rottweiler. He can piss on the wheels of my car anytime he wants, I aint gonna argue with him).
The gold hard backed phone protector designed to look like a bling ingot blended invisibly into the golden mound.
It was only when the yellow mountain started to vibrate
and belt out Whitney Houston’s “I’m every woman” that I twigged on my precious Iphone 4 was freezing its sim card off.
I scooped up my sorry new purchase and franticly tried to dry it off on my cosy body warmer, but Whitney’s exaggerated warble and duff notes told me something was drastically wrong.
My phoned was fucked.
I couldn’t turn her off.
My favourite song was now getting on my nerves and I was paying sixty quid for the pleasure.
I threw my shovel over my pain free left shoulder and took a slippery walk into town.
I spotted Jay as soon as I skidded into the O2 shop and told him what had happened.
He was very sympathetic and assured me that I was covered by insurance.
The smoulder from his beautiful dark brown eyes brought feeling back into my frozen feet, hands and cheeks.
By the time he had changed my ringtone we had booked a date for the following day. A meal, few drinks and afterwards back to his place. He wants to show me his Pokemon collection. He has every card, figurine and anything else to do with the beasts. I couldn’t wait to see them. I myself own a 3 foot Pikachu and a number of rare trading cards. I won these by taking part in a phone in competition on Smooth Radio purely by accident.
I was trying to get through to Curry’s to complain about my American fridge freezer. The ice maker keeps on spitting out ice cubes and I’ve found myself flat on my back on several occasions whilst walking through the kitchen to make myself a café latte after a particularly heavy night on the amber nectar. Next thing, I find myself live on air talking to Graeme Smith about what cartoon character I would compare myself to and I came up with Pikachu. I know she is short and yellow and looks cute, I’m short and cute and if I keep on drinking the amber nectar the way I do, I soon will be yellow with liver failure lol.
Hey Ho, I won the comp, and gladly took delivery of my 3 foot pikachu and various other memorabilia 2 weeks later.
He’s told me I can look but not touch. I’ve told him the same thing.
I do hope you can sort out my claim quickly as I have invited Jay over for a cosy meal and I want to impress him
with an amazing recipe for Spaghetti alla puttanesca I saw on “Come dine with me “ hosted in Birmingham and created by a Rastafarian 20 stone blond lass who was game for a laugh.
I look forward to hearing from you in the near future.
Yours
-
Suzanne
- Perspicacious Poster
- Posts: 4902
- Joined: Sun Oct 19, 2008 4:46 pm
- antispam: no
- Location: Land of the Midnight Sun
Dan and Pauline,
This was darn fun and worth the time. You both have splendid imaginations. I wonder if I could do it.
You two have flow.
(It's a bit like swag only different.)
Suzanne
This was darn fun and worth the time. You both have splendid imaginations. I wonder if I could do it.
You two have flow.
(It's a bit like swag only different.)
Suzanne
This must be a record.
The biggest snub on PG.
2140 hits and what did we get.
1 comment from Suzanne.
Cheers Suze.
I gotta say Dan,
I feel it's all down to me.
I killed your post.
Sorry for that.
I still think you're dead funny.
-
wildmountainthyme
- Persistent Poster
- Posts: 153
- Joined: Tue Jun 10, 2008 4:41 pm
hi Pauline. let's just keep it our little secret? if someone takes the wrong turn and ends up on our street, we'll welcome them into our weird, wee, world. i will and will always be your biggest fan. happy christmas young master. x
-
wildmountainthyme
- Persistent Poster
- Posts: 153
- Joined: Tue Jun 10, 2008 4:41 pm
been awhile, but starting with a bit more nonsense, someone may reply?
independence is a serious matter!
The Yes Campaign.
This is a real account. All within is truth.
I would just like to say that I am firmly behind the ‘Yes’ campaign.
You see just over three centuries ago my relative, Ebenezer Brady Fernie (somewhat renowned haberdasher and ex-upholsters mate) smashed every piggy-bank in his hovel (next doors as well, as they were out enjoying a late night ‘ugly witch dookin’ and light supper on the banks of the Nor’ Loch ).
He managed to collect up the vast amount of one pound, a huge sum of money for our family. With a smile on his dirty face he marched down to William Paterson's house, and once he’d climbed the 10 foot wall, and managed to outrun the mad screaming, drooling hounds, he then had to scramble up a box hedge topiaried into the shape of a penis, (it’s a little known fact that Paterson was the leading topiary expert of the day, his garden containing at least a dozen large topiaries of erect penis’s, each penis represented the 12 Laws of Pronomination, Lord Monboddo, esteemed wag, was later to become involved with topiary and it’s said that he had in his old town garden two massive box hedges shaped into a ‘gimungus erse wi’ a muckle tail’ facing south towards ‘them leeching English parasites’ ( there’s a place called Middlesboro that contains a few upstanding citizens) . After hiding up that big cock for two days, the dogs attention was diverted with the discovery of a street urchin who had unfortunately fallen from the roof into the garden (he had been busy licking clean one of Paterson’s 47 chimneys, poor wee filthy bastard was ripped to bits).
Ebenezer shimmied down the knob and proudly marched up the 400 yard driveway, thankfully the wealthy worthies managed to struggle by and enjoyed a little bit of comfort and joy in the manky Edinburgh air inside their big ‘ fancit hames’, before banging on the massive oak carved door.
He handed over his hard earned pound (he also handed over the porridge that he had concealed down his threadbare course tweed breeks and scooped out the rest from his one sock), Paterson, when he opened the door in his slippers (a strange place to have a door?) and saw my dirty faced, frightened, hungry distant relative Ebenezer standing there in the Edinburgh rain (it was summer) immediately, like any man of learning, intelligence, humanity and compassion summoned the polis.
Everyman was made welcome at Paterson’s abode for he was a great man o’ the masses.
Ebenezer explained that he had come to donate a pound, a drawer of the finest porridge ( wi' nae flies or crawlin’ beasties) and a sock (he only owned the one pair that he'd snow-dropped off Jenny Geddes washing line).
Paterson was delighted to accept the gifts and promised my dirty-faced ancestor 'a barry load o’ dough' on his investment in the approaching ill-fated Darien Scheme, Scotland's attempt to set up a tartan gift shop in Panama in about 1698.
That was a long time ago but maybe if our neighbours down south had given the ill fated, pie in the sky, hopeless, ridiculous, daftie, backward, village-idiot Darien Schemer's some assistance to help waylay the Spanish, the Indians, the mosquitoes, the heat, the disease, who knows what might have become of it and what might have become of weary Scotia?
Scotland has long been under the cruel possession of a bigger, stronger neighbour, continually snapping the fragile wings of its people, unable to accept that now, after gorging on Scotland’s fruits for centuries it is time to remove their heavy hands from around Scotland’s throat and let her people breathe the free air of independence and stand proud.
Our family are still raging at the loss of that pound. And the porridge, and the sock!
So you will definitely be getting my vote come the divorce proceedings. (Please don't ask for a donation, we've already given in our family)
Thank You.
Daniel Brady Fernie
High Street
Edinburgh
No reply as yet!
independence is a serious matter!
The Yes Campaign.
This is a real account. All within is truth.
I would just like to say that I am firmly behind the ‘Yes’ campaign.
You see just over three centuries ago my relative, Ebenezer Brady Fernie (somewhat renowned haberdasher and ex-upholsters mate) smashed every piggy-bank in his hovel (next doors as well, as they were out enjoying a late night ‘ugly witch dookin’ and light supper on the banks of the Nor’ Loch ).
He managed to collect up the vast amount of one pound, a huge sum of money for our family. With a smile on his dirty face he marched down to William Paterson's house, and once he’d climbed the 10 foot wall, and managed to outrun the mad screaming, drooling hounds, he then had to scramble up a box hedge topiaried into the shape of a penis, (it’s a little known fact that Paterson was the leading topiary expert of the day, his garden containing at least a dozen large topiaries of erect penis’s, each penis represented the 12 Laws of Pronomination, Lord Monboddo, esteemed wag, was later to become involved with topiary and it’s said that he had in his old town garden two massive box hedges shaped into a ‘gimungus erse wi’ a muckle tail’ facing south towards ‘them leeching English parasites’ ( there’s a place called Middlesboro that contains a few upstanding citizens) . After hiding up that big cock for two days, the dogs attention was diverted with the discovery of a street urchin who had unfortunately fallen from the roof into the garden (he had been busy licking clean one of Paterson’s 47 chimneys, poor wee filthy bastard was ripped to bits).
Ebenezer shimmied down the knob and proudly marched up the 400 yard driveway, thankfully the wealthy worthies managed to struggle by and enjoyed a little bit of comfort and joy in the manky Edinburgh air inside their big ‘ fancit hames’, before banging on the massive oak carved door.
He handed over his hard earned pound (he also handed over the porridge that he had concealed down his threadbare course tweed breeks and scooped out the rest from his one sock), Paterson, when he opened the door in his slippers (a strange place to have a door?) and saw my dirty faced, frightened, hungry distant relative Ebenezer standing there in the Edinburgh rain (it was summer) immediately, like any man of learning, intelligence, humanity and compassion summoned the polis.
Everyman was made welcome at Paterson’s abode for he was a great man o’ the masses.
Ebenezer explained that he had come to donate a pound, a drawer of the finest porridge ( wi' nae flies or crawlin’ beasties) and a sock (he only owned the one pair that he'd snow-dropped off Jenny Geddes washing line).
Paterson was delighted to accept the gifts and promised my dirty-faced ancestor 'a barry load o’ dough' on his investment in the approaching ill-fated Darien Scheme, Scotland's attempt to set up a tartan gift shop in Panama in about 1698.
That was a long time ago but maybe if our neighbours down south had given the ill fated, pie in the sky, hopeless, ridiculous, daftie, backward, village-idiot Darien Schemer's some assistance to help waylay the Spanish, the Indians, the mosquitoes, the heat, the disease, who knows what might have become of it and what might have become of weary Scotia?
Scotland has long been under the cruel possession of a bigger, stronger neighbour, continually snapping the fragile wings of its people, unable to accept that now, after gorging on Scotland’s fruits for centuries it is time to remove their heavy hands from around Scotland’s throat and let her people breathe the free air of independence and stand proud.
Our family are still raging at the loss of that pound. And the porridge, and the sock!
So you will definitely be getting my vote come the divorce proceedings. (Please don't ask for a donation, we've already given in our family)
Thank You.
Daniel Brady Fernie
High Street
Edinburgh
No reply as yet!
I don't actually remember seeing this thread before. I do remember the Henry Root letters. From memory, they were much shorter than these, weren't they? And much more likely to be taken seriously by the recipient. There's some good stuff in there, but they're all far too long. Lots of fun to write, no doubt, but less fun to read.
If you could boil them down to the good stuff, and get rid of all the excess baggage - and there's a lot of that - I'd like to read those.
Cheers
David
If you could boil them down to the good stuff, and get rid of all the excess baggage - and there's a lot of that - I'd like to read those.
Cheers
David