Dear all,
I'm writing this as a form of an apology and confession.
For some time now I have been guilty of expounding loathsome slurs on the
good people of the UK.
I have been fighting my condition for a good many years and if I may, I
would like to try to explain my behaviour , not to excuse it because my
adviser tells me there are no excuses.
When I was very young I was subjected to a series of traumatic events
which
are mostly responsible for my hateful behaviour. These events are too
graphic to expound here but suffice to say that I am faecally incontinent.
I went to Cambridge University in England (I think most of you know I'm
very
bright) to study engineering. Now it may be said that I am not a big man
but
you kinda think that picking on someone of a diminutive nature should stop
at high school but it didn't.
From the very first day when I arrived at university with my satchel, my
winnie the poo jim jams (that's pyjamas to you limey...whoops sorry) and
my
ginger mullet that the brits mercilessly ribbed me.
My first girlfriend was a brit and although we were seeing each other for
months she used to make me watch her with the other brits making out and
telling me to watch and learn.
When finally it was my turn I found that it wasn't the memories of her
body
writhing around that aroused me. Things went from bad to worse as you
might
expect. I found myself in Trafalgar square on most evenings trying to pay
my
way through university.
After my final exams, which I failed miserably, I wanted to return to my
beautiful homeland but, even the punters in Trafalgar square where
drifting
away muttering my soon to be adopted hated nickname (halfcock).
It's not that nobody loved me but that everybody loved me only for forty
five seconds.
Things are different now though. The reconstructive surgery is almost
complete - so much so that the sniggering only seems to start when I get
to
the UK. The hair dye is not needed anymore as the syrup (that's cockey
liming rang) has been superglued.
My colostomy bag has it's own seacock and I've stopped dribbling (well the
padding is so good now that I don't notice)
I had a wife for a long time but after seven weeks of marriage she went
into
a special home.
Now all I have is a dead parrot (to talk to) and my keyboard and a swan
which I hand reared back in 1968. I don't get out much due to the
continuous
deliveries of bags, wipes, pads and air-fresheners.
So you see this is the reason why I have vented my frustration and aimed
my
venom at you - you have made be what I am - a lonely, bitter, net***ual,
brit hating, wanker troll.
Well there is great news - I have stopped wanking since I made mummy
pregnant - good news hey...I am going to get a brother and be a dad in one
easy go...neat!
So next time you see (and I am trying really hard not to) any nasty
comments
made by me, please have a heart and think of me sitting in my lonely,
damp,
smelly bedsit, hating myself for being a completely dysfunctional looser.
Think also of the poor unfortunate community carers who have to attend to
my
needs and smile at me even though they despise the very sight of me just
like you lot do.
I crave attention, any attention and deep down even though I know you are
all laughing at me I know in myself that, sob...sob...sob...you are all
far
superior bastards!
Wilbur
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