I watched the BBC's program "Luther", a fly-on-the wall documentary about the Serious Crime Unit in London. Your detectives are a fine body of men, working hard to keep the public safe from satanists, diamond thieves and nutters armed with hammers. I salute them.
But what hideous neckties they all wear! Talk about a serious crime! I had to stop watching. And what's the point of even wearing a tie if you're going to subvert the whole idea by leaving the knot half-way down your front, like a teenage oik trudging unwillingly to school?
Is it any wonder that the streets of London are full of glue sniffers, if this is the example the police set?
I've voted Conservative all my life, but this is the final straw.
One has to respect the Home Office for responding to a complaint in such a helpful and informative way. Now I'm going to send them an email about the policemen who pestered female motorists in their underpants.
What a very fortuitous coincidence. I must tell you that the Memsahib, a woman of immense bodily mass and the disposition of a rabid she-leopard, is at this writing, both gravid with an heir to the Brocket estate, and in constant pain from an infestation of anal strawberries that has defeated Western medical science. The breakfast table at Chez Brocket is not, just at the moment, a happy place. A movement towards the marmalade, a lifting of the coffee-cup, can elicit from her Rubensesque lisps language that I did not dream, upon our wedding day, that she would ever know, let alone utter.
So I should be happy to place a firm order for a five-gallon drum of Indonesian dingleberry-slap, and an AnalAnulus (TM) chair cushion (the largest, "TractorTyre"' size, please).
The difficulty, of course, is payment. I note that you helpfully provide a number of bank accounts in Tasikmalaya, but I fear that option is a little racy even for one of my proven financial gullibility. I am able to make payment in any one of the following currencies: Turkish lira, live piglets, ten-glass bottles of finest Old Bushmills Whiskey-with-an-e, or Bitcoin. Please communicate at your earliest convenience your preference in this matter, and your price in the currency agreed upon, in order that we may proceed to a mutually satisfactory conclusion.
I remain, Sir, your obedient, nay, arse-kissing, servant,
Thon Brocket BA, Order of the White Elephant (Third Class)
This blog isn't on the way out. Hutton will keep on slipping in posts when you've given him up for dead or selling his body in a Turkish brothel. He's like a 80-year-old man who occasionally gets it up enough to have a wank.