A glass half full.......
Bloody hell, it’s getting harder and harder to moan about anything lately. I’ve been sucking on my HB, looking at a blank piece of paper thinking vitriol for days and days – but all to no avail. Everything in the UK garden is just bloody fine thanks very much. Tony’s looking immaculate. His comb over strategy seems to be working (except on windy days, obviously). John Prescott appears to have had a jowl makeover and is looking very sylph like nowadays (except when he’s storing some meat and potato pies in them, obviously). I don’t even have much of a problem with that young pup Prince Edward. He’s having a well deserved skiing holiday after his exhaustive fact finding trips to the USA and the golden beaches of the West Indies (well someone’s got to do it, obviously).
The Inland Revenue owe me money - and have admitted to doing so. Trains are running on time and staffed by happy smiley people. All motorway work has been completed and traffic jams are now a thing of the past.
I even saw Cherie Blair on the telly, God, she’s looking a foxily, sexy laydee alright.
I think I really do need help.
Seeing that hush, hush organisation MI5 are looking for another 1,000 people – I’ve decided to chuck my C.V. into the dossier named ‘Secret Agent’ and apply.
I rang them up for an application form.
"Hello, is that Em fifteen?"
"Whatever. Can I have an Application Form then please?"
"I’ll just take a few details, full name please."
"Certainly, Alfred B. Theok"
"And the ‘B’ – what does the ‘B’ stand for?
Hello, hello are you still there?"