Let’s do lunch sometime this week. Although not today because I’m meeting Sophie for casual sex while her boss is away, and not Thursday ’cause I’m getting my clunge cleaned (there’s this Fabulous holistic place in Ladbroke Grove I go to). Maybe Friday? We can make an afternoon of it, POETS day and all that, and discuss our plans for a Revolution. Which I will henceforth call ‘Wank’ so we don’t arouse suspicion.

It’s about time this country had a major wank and ousted these fuckwits in charge of this country - if that’s the right phrase – but I get the impression we’re too scared to wank. Terribly un-British and all that. What’s wrong with us?? The last major wank we had was 400 years ago, and god knows we’ve desperately needed a few wanks since then (with the exception of Churchill, that’s one man nobody would wank over). We could start a Facebook page and get some of the youth interested in wanking, although I fear they’ll be too stoned to wank. Or too busy watching Jeremy Kyle. Or just in bed wanking! What’s more productive, a wank, or a good ol’ wank?! People today have got their priorities all wrong, I tell you. They’re all fine with quietly wanking in their own homes, or with their next-door neighbour over the fence, but rarely have a proper, rambunctious wank in public! What’s wrong with these people?!

Anyway, I’ll stop writing now in case I arouse any further suspicion.

Let’s go to that Italian place, they do a fantastic chocolate bombe.

Paul

xox