I'd had an allotment in Islington for a few years, and other allotment owners had warned me about security, saying that theft was a problem.
I didn't believe it, at first. I mean, who wants to steal small amounts of home-grown fruit and vegetables? It's not worth it, and, as the criminal fraternity says, "if you can't do the time, don't do the crime."
Anyway, I had the feeling that small quantities of my produce were disappearing, so I began to keep a tally. First, it was maybe a pound of my King Edwards, and then my cucumber patch was robbed, so I decided to install a security camera.
A few days later, I reviewed the footage, and bugger me if it didn't catch that old Marxist Corbyn rummaging among my rhubarb! I tell you right now, it's not property that's theft, it's frigging old beardies nicking the fruits of my labour.
Well, I had a few strong words with him, as you can guess, and Corbyn denied it, so I said, "who the fuck was it, then? Was it Santa Claus or fucking Captain Birdseye? No, it was you!" Anyway, I got my own back by letting my dogs shit all over his strawberries. Enjoy your home made jam, Jezza!