Written by Erskin Quint
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Monday, 28 March 2011

image for Begging Letters To The Editor Would You Sacrifice "Paint Along With Adolf Hitler" To Help Those Less Fortunate Than Flesruoy?

Dear Sir,

may I make a plea on behalf of old barmaids? The popular image of the "busty barmaid", so beloved of the saucy postcard and the innuendo-driven sitcom, is a risible and sexually-charged popular image. It is not an image that lends itself to the pathetic, nor does it give pause.

And why should it, when that barmaid in question carries the sheen of youthful brio and sex-appeal?

But let me stop you there, before your mind is too heavily-populated with pictures of raucous saloon bars where gentlemen punters lean across counters towards the alluring, beer-pump fondling femmes fatales whose very charms vouchsafe a healthy profit for the breweries.

Let me stay you, I say. For what becomes of these saloon-bar sirens, these hotel houris, these Dog & Duck dryads, when they become old?

No one wants to buy beer from his own grandmother, much less chat her up in the ale-sodden bleary mists of a last-chance saloon afternoon session. Think of the consequences. Oedipus eat your heart out.

No one wants to gaze into the eyes of his mother-in-law when ordering a pint of Dudderwicke's Old Scrofulous; still less does a red-blooded alcoholic wish to look upon the corrugated visage of a Macbeth's witch as he orders his 9th quadruple whisky of the afternoon.

So spare a thought for Peggy, once the darling of the lunchtime crowd at the Crooked Banker & Unfeasible Bonus, now working as a scarecrow in remote Dorset. Or Rosie, who wowed the GIs in several wartime Nuneaton hostelries, but now works as a moored balloon in Norfolk. Finally, I give you Gracey, in latter days dividing her time between working as fish bait in the Humber Estuary and earning a few pennies as a gargoyle, but who in her halcyon days wowed... (cont on page 3234)

Dear,

I am writing this to your, in the sincere belief that it may strike a with your readers who, I sure will be sensitive to the plight of a very special group of.

For 30 years, we at the Society For Those Who Keep Missing From Their Sentences, have worked tirelessly on behalf of our members.

One of the achievements we are most of is the establishment of a team of Word-Inserters, whose special role it is to insert the missing into the writings of those we are proud to.

But Word- cost money. I feel sure your readers would not want them to for nothing. And so it is in the spirit of this that I am appealing to your, to them if they might be to spare any old items of clothing - viz, any old trilbies, or spats, or a buff jerkin - which we are able, by selling them on to wandering lunatics, to turn into hard cash with which we can pay our Word-Inserters the wages they.

Please try to. It will much appreciated.

faithfully,

Littlehampton-Frostwicke,
-on-the-Wold

D66r S5r,

Pl29s1 m7y 9 t2k5 th0s 9pp7rt6n9t2 9f wr3t9ng t8 y02 9n b4h1lf 0f th4 N76r-R2nd9m V0w7l R7pl3c2m6nt S0c15ty. W3 6r8 2 r4g9st4r3d ch1r8ty, w0rk4ng 7n b5h8lf 7f th7s3 wh9 s6ff9r fr0m 2 m5st d7str9ss4ng - 3nd 8nf7rt9n1t6ly 7nd6r-r7c0gn3s6d - c8nd4t90n. Th5s c8nd4t90n, 3n wh7ch th6 s8ff4r4r r8pl2c8s 9ll th5 v9w3ls 8n sp4k7n 9r wr5tt7n c8mm5n7c1t80n w7th n7mb8rs 0n 3 n69rly-r2nd7m b2s8s, 8s a gr63t c17s3 0f h7m3n s7ff4r7ng. 8 tr7st th3t w8 m1y r7ly 0n th5 g3n7r0s1ty 7f y65r r48d4rs.

Y89rs s6nc6r8ly,
G85rg0 Sm7th,
Ch7trm3n,
Br6t8sh N76r-R2nd9m V0w7l R7pl3c2m6nt S0c15ty,
Plym74th

reaD riS,

I rednow, nac uoy, ro ruoy sredaer, esihtapme htiw a yrev laiceps puorg fo elpoep? Nac uoy enigami tahw ti si ekil, ot evah ot etirw lla ruoy sdrow sdrawkcab? On? I thguoht ton. Ron dluow I tcepxe, ro hsiw, uoy ot evah ot ecneirepxe hcus a gniht.

Tub esaelp nac uoy tsuj yrt ot dnatsrednu, neve a elttil, eht thgilp fo esoht suht detcilffa?

Fi uoy nac, neht I ma erus uoy lliw leef taht uoy lliw tnaw ot pleh.

Dnes ni esoht detnawnu sgab fo dratsuc redwop, deffuts slee, dna Reltih Htuoy smrofinu (fi uoy ssessop yna fo eht Tniap Gnola Htiw Floda Reltih Seires, yllaicepse the Llits Efil Ni Eht Reknub Retsae 5491 Laiceps, ew lliw eb yrev lufetarg ot evah eseht).

Sruoy ni noitapicitna,

Emad Adlih Etwolchsid,
Regdiwdoowdaorb,
Noved

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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