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Viz Letters

While my forthcoming book is in the hands of the designers I thought I’d re-print all the Letters & Top Tips that I sent to Viz comic in 2016. As far as I know, only one letter made it to the magazine; the one about schoolkids sending photos of their privates to each others phones (not my strongest, in my opinion).

“Letterbocks”

My wife and I have just returned from the worst dining experiences of our lives, at the award-winning Clink Restaurant at Brixton Prison. Our waiter kept asking if we had any “snout” for him. A most unsavoury character. He later followed me into the lavs and asked if I would be his girlfriend. Very unsettling.

Mr L. Buzzard, Bedfordshire.

 

I’m dismayed that in these times of austerity the NHS are still performing heart operations. Money should only be granted for essential work, such as making girls’ knockers bigger. Has the country gone mad?

Mr L. Buzzard, Bedfordshire.

 

Some people think using bad language in front of kids sets a bad example.  Bollocks.  Our European cousins swear less than us because they are exposed to filth at a younger age.  French and Spanish children are encouraged to use a little watered-down profanity at the dinner table, and grow up to swear responsibly.

Professor Cock, Department of Swearing, Oxford University.

 

“Money Can’t Buy me Love” sang the Beatles.  What rot!  I bought a blinding prostitute for fifty quid last night. She said she really likes me, and I can see her again whenever I want at her bedsit by the station.  Happy Days!

 

“Things Can Only Get Better” sang D:Ream in 1993.  How very true.  I’ve just been informed by unsolicited email that a mystery benefactor has left me two million pounds in his will.  I just need to send a small administration fee to a solicitor in Nigeria tomorrow to finalise the release of funds.  I’ve sold my car for peanuts to get the money to pay the fee and put a deposit on a new Porsche.  I’ve told the council to take their crappy bedsit back, and this afternoon I shall tell my boss where to stick his job.  I aim to take a once-in-a-lifetime Caribbean cruise next month. Aye, I’m a man of leisure from now on!…

 

The kids of today have it easy.  Teenagers of my generation had to interact face to face with classmates they fancied.  These days they just email photos of their private parts and wait for a response. It seems lazy to me, but I suppose it’s progress of sorts.

 

After observing lorries delivering bags of ice to fancy West End bars, I tried making my own.  After a few weeks experimenting I found I could make my own “ice” by putting tap water in the freezer.  My friends think it’s as good as the real thing – and it’s free!

 

Councils should do more for those who find carrying their mobile phone everywhere inconvenient.  They should provide phones for public use, and house them in booths situated in prominent locations. They could paint them red for ease of viewing, and give the booths a snappy name, such as “phone box.”  I really think they could catch on.

 

“Top Tips”

Avoid scandalous car parking charges in London. You can park all day unmolested by simply by enclosing your car with orange barriers next to road works.  Barriers can be hired from any builders’ yard, and delivered by lorry the same day.

Mr L. Buzzard, That London.

 

MOTORCYCLISTS.  In order to gain attention, why not sit at the traffic lights revving your engine needlessly?  For maximum irritation, wait in the advance cycle zone in order to obstruct cyclists and intimidate pedestrians.

Mr L. Buzzard, Bedfordshire.

 

LONDON TOUR BUS DRIVERS.  Why not drive 5mph slower than regular buses?  This way, your passengers can experience a traditional British traffic jam, while watching a long line of irate drivers queuing behind you.  Make sure your passengers wave as they take their photos.

 

Make your neighbours think you have a high level job with the government by ostentatiously looking under your car every morning with a mirror on a stick.

Mr L. Buzzard, Bedfordshire.

 

Make people think you’ve just returned from an expensive long-haul holiday.  Just wrap an old suitcase in cling film and wheel it around town.

 

Eat your heart out, William Shakespeare!

 

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