Sunday 6 February 2011

Hasty La-Visa

Deer Gerry, 'tis I, Rosie Ryan the fairy Queen of Clougher.
Word has reached me that once again, like the swallows of Capisstrano you are winging your way to sunnier climes.
You Gerry Anderson is a lotus eater. That's what you is, a lotus eater.
The world is your ostler. You fly through the sky with the gratest of ease, eating concannon and musky green peas.
You circumscribe the globe like a veritable equater.
You is a jet-setter and founder member of the mile Hi club.
Oh the depravity and debauchery that goes on in the cramped confines of a Ryanair toilet.
I was just saying to the bredman this morning as he fondled my paris buns, Gerry Anderson is a gallivanter extraordinaire.
The word extraordinaire comes from the French as does my Paris buns.
Things is quite in Clougher at the presant.
The hullabaloo over auld 86 year old Mungo McZerox and auld 82 year old
Pippa McMalaboo is dying down.
Oh the shame, oh the igmony to be dragged from a burning hey shed by firemen at fore oh clock in the morning.
Auld Mungo lay on the grass like Al Jolson insisting he had taken auld Pippa into the hey shed to show her the way his false teeth glowed in the dark.
Auld Pippa is disgraced, the priest forbid her ever to put flowers on the alter again.
Some saintly, kristian woman put a red lite on auld Pippa's zimmer frame on Monday as she walked down Clougher street to jeers, boo's and kat calls.
LUST! Raw, undiluted lust lead to their downfall.
Lust is like rust, it corrodes, tarnishes and in the end, devours.
Oft I must go. Bon Jovi wool soon be home from skool to amaze me with his amazing thoughts on, dark matter, the eratic orbit of Jupiter and a loud, guldering of, "The red flannel drawers that Maggie wore".
Think of the wan who loves you as you get stuck into the Sue-She and Don Perry-On cham-pain.
I is your 'umble senile serviette,
Rosie Ryan xxx
HASTY LA-VISA

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