Biff and Nibbles

What Ho Proles!

HALF PAST ONE AND ALL'S WELL!

Or I think it is. Can't really tell. Bit tipsy this evening.

What Ho Proles!

Oh, done that bit already.

Damn good bash tonight. Smashing grub. Plenty of plonk. Lovely ladies. Couldn’t give a damn about the chaps, though. Punched one over the cheese nibbles. Ruddy fellow wouldn’t leave them alone. Taught him a thing or two. Never put your fingers in another man’s nibbles. Bang out of order. How’s this you scoundrel, I said. Biff. Nibbles saved. Murgatroid rules the day. That's the Tory way. Biff and nibbles. Biff and nibbles.

Here’s a funny thing. I’m actually wearing my trousers on my head. What do you think about that! Jolly good fun it is too. Knees damn cold though. I have hairs growing out of my knees. Oddest thing. Never noticed it before.

Did I mention I’m slightly sloshed? Probably necked a few too many bottles this eveenning. Damn trouser legs keep getting in the way of my typing. That's better. Knotted them together. Damn good jape it is though. I now look a bit like a corkscrew.

Anyway, promised earlier I’d update you all but got slightly sloshed. Still, won’t stand in my way. Even when I’ve not got the old noodle working straight. (Have to whisper. My Man's loitering and looking moody. Guess he’ll delete this when I’ve gone to get some shut eye. [My Man: No, I won't. Just see what I have to put up with.] Can’t trust him, you know, but keep that under you sombrero.)

Hmm… Ever wonder why plonk gets you tipsy? I often wonder. Ruddy good thing it does though. Often think wine's wasted on the French while I get wasted on the wine.

Saw a frightfully funny thing today. Can’t remember what it was. Damn funny thing, whatever it was. Still makes me smile.

Oh yes, was meaning to say a thing or two about these beggars in London. Saw one today. Bold as ruddy brass, come up to me in the street. Asks for money! What for, says I, thinking there might be a bit of quid-pro-quoing going on. For nothing, says he. For nothing? For nothing? I gave him nothing. I give him nothing but the toe end of some brown leather. Cheeky blighter had the cheek to call a policeman.

My Man's still hanging around. Miserable fellow won't put his trousers on his head.

I better get to bed before the stupor sets in. Last time I didn’t make it, woke up standing behind the grandfather clock. Been there all night.

I must say these trousers look damn good on me. Glad to have updated you though. Damn good bash.

Nighty night.