Thanks, You Bastards.
February 19, 2006
Thank you so very much.
No, really, I mean it from the bottom of my heart. Thank you for throwing my last two letters away and completely fucking ignoring me. See if I care, just see if I care. Here I sit, under a faulty 60 watt bulb with the sea whistling around my feet in my backward world and you are laughing at me. Ha bloody ha.
It’s Saturday night and I just bet you’ll be doing something frightfully exciting. Oh, I dunno, maybe going to the theatre, or to hear a brand new pop band, or maybe just a riot at your local pub surrounded by your family and friends. And do you know what I’m doing? Trying to tune my crap 1970’s stereo into ‘The Archive Hour’ on Radio 4, my only choice of fun. Tonight it’s `Britain’s Changing Attitude to Immigration` from 8pm to 10pm with only the bloody shipping forecast to bereak the monotony. La di fucking da.
And have any of you sent me any DVDs yet? Well, have you? Look deep into your soul and tell me you meant to. You were going to round to it. You’re sorry but it slipped your mind. Fat lot of good that does me.
Anyway, I’m going to give you one last chance before i grass you up to the tax office. Just go through your drawers, clean out your cupboards and find me something to watch. Anything! I will even entertain black and white `Carry On` films or even `Miss Marple Mysteries`. Both of these have been given away free with daily papers, so you must at least have got some of them. I wouldn’t ask but I am so poor and so stuck out in the middle of nowhere that I need you to take pity on me.
You really must have a concience in there somewhere in there. Don’t you feel even the tiniest bit guilty? Am I really not worth that much to you? Now come on, pull your finger out and reply with a big bundle of freebie DVDs and restore my faith in life. I must be worth that to you… please save me from having to listen to `The Archers` any longer… (Eddie can’t currently go to school and the sheep in Daniel Mettocks farm won’t give milk)… see how mad I’ve become? You’ll find me swinging from from the boughs of Mrs. Arkwrights old Oak tree, dead from the lack of television, and I’m sure you wouldn’t want that. Would you?
I have now coloured in all the books I own. I need culture. I need TV. This morning I walked six miles to Whitby library to borrow a book but it was closed. (Honestly). This was the last straw, the final nail in the coffin. Holly has the inter-nit-net thing but I’m not allowed near it since the last visit from Special Branch. Please, please burn me some culture. Steal me a DVD if need be. I would steal one myself but everything is shut. Everything. I would go for another walk but it is after eight and it is completely pitch black outside my door. It is dangerous with no street lighting and the sea with jagged rocks just meters away. And anyway, I havent got any clean socks.
I shall just sit here, by the letterbox in the forlorn hope that you will send me a huge pile of free DVDs that are useless to you but lifeblood to me.
I now know what it must be like to be a prisoner in Guatanamo Bay.
Save me.
Fucking Tourists.
February 11, 2006
Last weekend saw an influx of tourists coming into Robin Hoods Bay (winter popluation 180). We had about 20,000 idiots buying fridge magnets and plastic lobsters. Mayhem. There must have been thirty twats peering through our curtains at ‘the funny fisherman in his quaint cottage’. I ended up waggling my willy at a few of them. That’ll give them something to remember about their visit to the seaside.
Plastic fucking lobsters my arse.
Ted.
YOU MAY HAVE ALREADY WON £10,000
February 2, 2006
Dear nameless chums.
Thank you for the letters you didn’t send me. Still, I’m sure you’ll make up for it by taking me up on my fantastic DVD offer.. A bit like a Blue Peter Christmas Appeal but far more violent. DVD’s are cheap to send and need little packaging, just a bit of tape around them and Bob’s your fucking Aunties husband.
The pace of life here has got slower… we are now officially in the Crawler Lane. A milk float overtook us yesterday.
Seven weeks with no media other than ‘Farmer’s World’ on Radio 4 and reading a bloody book a day I have invested money I don’t have (See Nick Leeson) in a new portable DVD player that unbelievably works in this fucking backwater. It only requires electricity to make it run and we get that here between 11 in the morning and 7 in the evening, (replaced by calor gas on weekends). So now I need some DVDs, having sold most of mine to finance my spiralling porn habit.
You must have some old rubbish laying around the place, or if you have the capacity to ‘burn me off’ some (whatever the fuck that means). Anything you stole off a tramp will do. Anything. Just give me something to watch other than old Mrs. Dribbly from the corner shop who pisses herself four times a day in the pick n mix.
Anyway, plea over. What’s happening here? Well, Holly has that new fangled interest net thing. Only poxy dial up, downloading one page takes eleven days so that’s out of the question. Apparently, she’s getting Broad bean band soon but can’t decide who with yet. I don’t understand any of it. I just know if you tip your coffee in the speakers they stop working. You learn something new every day.
The high tides are currently chucking stinking seaweed at our house. Bastards. It is currently covering our bay, the worst it’s ever been apparently. One fisherman told me it must be ‘Global Warming’ and another told me it was the reult of the Sugarbabes splitting up. But to give him credit, the first fisherman was wildly drunk.
The Robin Hoods Bay Residents
February 1, 2006
Ted Madges
Lived for ten years in Worksop, Nottinghamshire - a coal mining town closed down for business in 1992. Friend of both Jon Fat Beast and Captain Cash. Worked for Cash Converters in Worksop and later in Scarborough. Hates them with a passion.
Reads books because he can’t get a TV signal in Robin Hoods Bay. Loves Radio 4, hates the sea. Which his house is in. Nearly.
Hates Whitby but who doesn’t?
Big film fan, does cleaning jobs in both Bay and Scarborough. Doesn’t get on with his wife as he would like to. Hates his mother.
Chuckle Brothers Fan Club member number 11202.
Like a drink or three.
Holly Madges
Holly works in a book shop in Scarborough. Loves Crystals, Reiki and self harming. Hates Ben the dog. Married to Ted for at least ten years.
Spends her life on the internet. Won’t let Ted use the home computer as would break it.
Probably a witch.
Spencer
Aged 24, Smells. Fat, Loud, Goth liar. Bit of a twat really.
Sarah
Aged 22 - Pink Hair. Drunk.
Emo kid from Worksop. Moved up with Ted and Holly to Bay, then got married, had a child and seperated from the baby’s father all within a year. Currently unemployable.
Hates Men. Hates Everything.
Ben The Dog
Black and white mixed breed.Ben is about 35 years old in Dog years and completely full of shit. Most of which Ted and Holly have to clean up. Ben likes having a piss, sleeping and having a dump.
Ben does not like cats, but he will fight anything and anybody.
Woof.
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