Them folk at the Celticle Wireless Corporation as asked me again to write some words for this ere blog thing after my successful little piece of nonsense last month, so ere I am.
Theys got this programme called The Underground Ablution, see, and [Underground Edition, Amelia. Ed.]
Theres that bloody Ed again, pokin is nose in. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, that Underground whatever they calls it, with Bill Everard or whatever is name is [Everatt, Amelia. Ed.]
Will you kindly stop interruptin me, boy! Its gettin on me nerves.
Anyway, like, theres this little slot introduced by that nice Mr Ambrose Johns and [Andrew John, Amelia. Ed.] Whatever! An he reports from that nice little amlet called Little Bibbling under Flossock, what you can make out from the other side of the M39, if yous sittin down. Thats where I lives at number 42 Cobblers Cottages.
Now it cant have escaped your notice, unless youre a blithering idiot and theres a lot of them hereabouts that theres a new Doctor on your telly. I dont know nothin about it meself, like, cos we only gets telly in the Ancient Bibblin language, see. But I hear tell its good.
Well, when this months Bibblin report first went out in 2008 thats in your calendar, o course, not the Bibblin calendar, which is altogether more logical with twenty-six and a half days per month, regular, like, none o this messin around with thirty-one days ere and thirty days there . . . But Is forgotten where I was.
Oh, yes. This months report features an idiot Celticle Wireless Corporation reporter called Elvis Twinge, what went to our neighbouring village of Much Fondling on the Grope to report on the appointment of a new Doctor on account of ow the old one ad just resigned, like. Seems like only yesterday, dunnit?
An by the end of it I dont think that nice Andrea Jones was very pleased. But youll ave to tune in well, I thinks they calls it downloadin or sommat fancy an listen.
You might as well listen to the whole programme while yer at it, an all. All a bit too jivey and loud for the likes of me, what is ninety-three, but there you goes. They didnt feature me in this one, but thats their loss! But Ill be in some of em before the years out.
Oh, they as this thing called Easter hereabouts, and the folk at Celticle Wireless Corporation gave me a sort of brown egg. Bloody useless. Collapsed and went all melty as soon as I dropped it into a pan o boilin water, it did.
Thats modern stuff for yer!