Dear Sister Assumpta, I woz talkin' to me BFF Phillip the uvver day an' 'e sed there's no way we're gonna be doin' bird for this 'ere property mullarkey but now the beak's sent us darn an' I'm staring at 18 munfs in chokey. Is it true that I shood of told the carncil I loaned me mate the money fer the 'arse? S.
Sister Assumpta writes: Yer feckin' eejit, yer a cute hoor and no mistake! Yer made a terrible hames of running the feckin' council yer feckin' gobshite, so don't be giving me any of yer guff. Yer've made a holy show of yerself, so hump off before I give yer a puck in the gob!
Dear Sister Assumpta, I woz talkin' to me BFF Sandy the uvver day an' 'e sed there's no way we're gonna be doing bird for this 'ere property mullarkey but now the beak's sent us darn an' I'm staring at 12 munfs in chokey. Is it true that me mate shood of told the carncil that 'e loaned me the money fer the 'arse? P.
Sister Assumpta writes: Jaysus! Feck yer, yer feckin' bollocks. If yer gonna do everything arseways, yer bound to make a bags of it, yer mentaller. Now shut yer cuntin' cakehole yer dry shite or I'll chuck a gollier at yer knackers!
Dear Sister Assumpta, I am the leader of the Conservative faction of a certain local authority in the South East of England. In the past few years my members have suffered a series of misfortunes, including convictions for misconduct in public office and drink-driving, police investigations over collusion with property developers, castigations over foul-mouthed and unseemly behaviour in public, allegations of falsifying records, absenteeism (Panama), homophobia and cat killing to name but a few. For the life of me, I can't understand why we are no longer in power. Is there anything we can do to make ourselves more popular? B.
Sister Assumpta writes: Feck me backwards through a threshin' machine, yer great arsin' tool! Yer goin' around like a constipated greyhound! Yer think yer the cat's pyjamas, but yer got a face like the the Earl of Hell's arse! Go lick it off a scabby leg!