Thursday 30 July 2009

Dear Mr O'Reilly,

I write to wish you happy St Patricks day. Not that
you'll be in work, be jasus an begorrargh. No to be
sure you'll have donned your funny green suit and
your wife will have put on her new green dress and
you'll have headed on down to the oirish bars in town.
No doubt you'll be buying drinks all round and doing
tricks.
Then it's all back to someone's caravan and a bit of
the old Val Doonican. Then you punch your best
mate cos he's giving your wife a leery look. Then
he hits you back and you look into each others eyes
and sure don't you remember growing tatties with
him in the old country. So you sling your arms
around each other. Then you slap your wife cos no
wonder Seamus is giving her a leery look what
with her showing her chest to half of conemarra.
And you make her put a shawl on. Then you sing
a mourneful ballad about a potato famine. Then it's
'Paddy McGinty's Goat' and everyone gets drunk
and you do your Frank Carson joke about a Cork
man breaking into Ladbrokes and losing £250.
Then it's more drink before heading off to mass
and then it's back to the oirish bars while the
women go home and get the tatties and cabbage
ready.
And you finish the night off with a knee trembler
down some back ginnell with Rosie from the
pound shop.

I tell you Mr O'Reailly i wish i was a Paddy likt
you

LOVE AND PEACE
BERNARD WILSON

P.S.....Denise was wondering whatt you did for
crisps during the potato famine? I said you
probably ate cheesy wot-sits

Dear Mrs Fenton,

I am having a lazy day.
You know the sort, the 10 o'clock weed
still aint been rolled and it's a quarter to
twelve.
Picture me, if you will, lay on the Chesterfield
we got on the drip off Greek Eammon on
Grey Mare Lane Market (next to Bob the
curtain man). Clad only in my socks and
wearing my Kaftkhan, eating a bucket of
chips left over from last nights happy meal
(happy?....one's never made me happy).
when a thought comes to me.
You know how you have 'paternity leave'.
Well what about 'fraternity leave'?
A fortnight a year when an housing officer
stays at a tenants gaff on their patch
(Mrs Naylor stays in a house on Mayton
Close, Miss Wharton on Edirh Cavell close
and Mr Thomas on Hopedale)
Mr O'Reilly could get his head down on
my couch, the dogs wont mind.
The tenant chosen could live two weeks
rent free.
Hey let me know.

LOVE AND PEACE
BERNARD WILSON

P.S. For all of eternity you are my fraternity
(i don't mind turnin the duvet back for a
woman of your stature Mrs Fenton)