Dear Dreary,
Me and the lads have recently been on a trip to Belgium and spent the week camping near a delightful little farm house at Waterloo. The weather hasn’t been great, it rained a lot of the time.
I’ve recently separated from my girlfriend. I know I might seem a little ungrateful but her constant demands to woo her in the boudoir drove me to distraction.’ Not tonight’, I’d say to her.
There’s a couple of Swedish birds in a caravan opposite i’ve got my eye on.
When we first split I went on an island holiday by myself, just for a bit of peace, but I soon grew tired of this and wanted to see the lads again.
Anyway, aside from the constant torrential downpour we’d all settled down quite nicely for our first night of our little camping jollies. The trouble began on the morning of the second day.
Some Scotsman woke us all up playing the bloody bagpipes as loud as you like. One of our artillery lads fired a gentle warning shot with his cannon to request that they keep it down a bit.
His volley went slightly off course landing through the roof of the farmhouse B&B where apparently some English blokes were staying over the weekend. Well, as you can imagine all hell broke loose!
They sent all their mates over, including them bloomin’ Scots lot ready for some fisty cuffs.
We were heavily outnumbered to be fair and they gave us a right good kicking. In desperation we shouted over to some Austrians and Prussians in the next field for help but they were neither use nor ornament.
The cock of the English blokes went by the name of Chris Plummer. His nick name was Wellington I think. Snotty bastard he was.
Anyway, they ruined our holiday and we left the following morning.
The Campaign and Camping Club are loathed to give us a refund and we wondered if you could offer any suggestions as to how we may bring someone to account for our inconvenience.
We’re certainly pressing charges against Wellingtons mob.
I’ve booked a long weekend in Malta next month.
Could you recommend anywhere nice to stay in Russia!
Yours,
Napoleon.

My dear Bony.

I aim to please whenever possible, but I fear I may have met my Waterloo with this one. You, the bravest, most sophisticated, and brainiest French leader of all time, go on holiday to Belgium, and then complain about the weather?!? Mon dieu mon petitie cuisses de grenouilles!

What did you expect? Corsica in friggin July??

And as for your girlfriend, I suspect that you will be somewhat better off without her. Such over enthusiasm in the bed room chamber oft suggests that the strumpet in question may only be "up for it" so regularly because she hides the real truth from her suitors. That is, that she is panting with lying eyes, a serial sponger, and, how do they say in France..........as barren as an Accrington brick. Withdraw form her arid regions and extend your bony part elsewhere.

How about a pretty little island to escape to instead? The luscious ladies of Elba are, I believe, most welcoming, if a little on the slow side. This time of year, when the figs hang heavy on the branch, they are glad of some foreign intervention, and their olive-oiled pussies are more than ready for a probing excursion from the intrepid traveller. Who knows, you may even feel relaxed enough to withdraw your deformed little hand from your waistcoat, and find a warmer home for it.

You should be able to explore at will. The peasant girls will do nothing to prevent close examination of the local promontories as they have very little experience. In fact, you could say they don't know they arse from their Elba!

Have fun on your travels!

L & K, Dreary.

Rug

Dear Dreary.
Over the last few months i have kept myself busy in the production and cultivation of a new rug.
I was extremely proud of my creation, extending and manicuring it with care and dedication.
It is deep but yielding to the touch,but with defined edges and is an alluring shade of crimson.
I keep it in what has been something of a void between the front and back.
My partner Monty however, on his recent return from a tour of duty in Afghanistan, declared it to be old fashioned and slightly musty. He says he now prefers a minimalistic appearance.
What should I do?
Regards, Davina McFlurry, Axminster.


My dear Davina.
It's always a wise move to have some form of rug down in your passage between front and back. It's bound to take a bit of a beating too what with a constant southerly wind blowing in from the back coupled with a persistent drizzle from your leaking vestibule. I'd certainly be looking to have it insured.
The chances of a stubborn stain upon your pile is quite high also.
And if 'friends' insist on traipsing around the back then your shag shall be dulled very quickly indeed.
If Monty is unhappy with the way that you present your hallway then pull the rug from under his feet and send him packing!
Dreary.