'Allo again!
Oi been a bit orft me best fer a few weeks, 'cos Oi 'ad a bit of a family trageredy so's Oi 'int been up fer wroitin' letters an' fings, but Oi 'ad ter wroit this 'un 'cos Oi got the 'ump, t'other day.
Y'see, Oi 'ad visitations from a couple o' them Councillor folks 'oo wanted me vote in them local electromecutions (made a nice change ter meet 'em, 'cos all Oi usually get is the leaflet bods) but the bloighters wouldn't gimme the time o' day ter voice me needs as a parish pensioner - too much of an 'urry ter get along the street an' pop their papers in doors, Oi 'spect. Typical o' them folks, Oi reckon - want yer vote, not yer oppinimions. It 'int roight, Oi tell yer.
Well, me an' some o' me ol' mates in these parts av' 'ad enuff, an' we've decided ter form our own presshure group, so's we can foight our own campaign an' not av' ter rely on someone 'oo 'int really interesticated in our case. We 'ad a pow-wow, us Fogeymen, an' we decoided ter give us a name wot'll catch yer ears, so's everyone'll know 'oo's we are an' what we're abewt.
First, me ol' mate Arthur Pynte wanted to call our little band o' foighters, 'al Qaeholics' or 'al Qaseltzer' ('cos the ol' sot's always pickled, an' uses the ol' liver salts ter sort 'is 'angovers), but we sed no ter that an' settled for anuver name...wot hescapes me right now...um...Wait up - it'll come to me... Oh yerst - 'al Zymers', Oi think it were...not sure, really...gettin' forgetful in me ol' age... Can't even remember what we wuz gonna fight for, either...
Any'ow, we'll get sorted for the next 'lectrocution an' we'll be droppin' leaflets in your street, listenin' to your oppinimions - if we'ze can remember where we's goin' an' can all stay awake long enuff...
Roight - toime fer some more memory pills...Oi think it's them, anyway...
Tara!
Ivor Gripe.
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