savva pou eisaiiii

bepis the queen is dead

Ναι ειμαι ΠΑΣΟΚ
Π-αω στο νοσοκομειο
Α-ναζητω καποιον υπευθυνο
Σ-υνομιλαω με την ρεσεψιονιστ
Ο-λος απορια μιλαω με ειναι γιατρο
Κ-αταλαβαινω οτι η γυναικα μου εκανε εκτρωση

, "i have some kids here who need a good whooping". then, mr henderson picked up the entire pub, and hit us each 4006 times with it. then, dad said "right, i gotta go back to the soot factory, you kids run on home now". now, by now it was 1pm, which meant it was curfew. while we were walking out of the town square, we heard a man shout "oi you bloody kids, its curfew". we turned around and saw the constable holding his baton. he hit us each 160265 times with his baton, then put us in gaol for 60123865 years. now - they don't make gaols like they used to - this one had 5 mile thick steel walls, and a single hole in the top let in some light. we were in there for about 13526 years, until mum baked the constable some cardboard pie so he would let us out. then, she hit us all 1292 times with a washboard, and grounded us for the rest of our lives. so don't you come complaining to me about nonsense like not living long enough because you can't afford cigarettes.

now, we didn't have any of your fancy food laws back in the day, so there was all kinds of stuff in our candy. bleach, lsd, ecstasy, you name it. so we would always get a little hyper after our candy. one day, when we were hyper, we went up the mr boris's car, the only car in the town, and touched it. as we touched it, we saw dad storming down the street holding his belt. "you kids, having fun while i work all day in the soot factory just so you can have grilled water for tea every night, i oughta smack you all". we were sure he was going to smack us, but then he said "no, i got a better idea, ill take you to see mr henderson, he'll set ya right". now, dad had told us about mr henderson. mr henderson was a veteran from the great war, where he got a really bad injury, but we never knew what it was. dad walked us all down to the pub, and we saw a left testicle propped up on a pegleg. "mr henderson," said dad

and was tall enough that the branches on the top could scrape the moon. one day, little jimmy fell from the top of the tree. when he hit the ground, the only bit of his body we could recognise was his left eyeball. we picked up all his bits and rushed him to the doctors surgery. dr james said "oh its just a scratch little jimmy dont worry pop a plaster on it and you'll be right" and he gave little jimmy a plaster and a lollipop and he was ok. after we finished playing by the river, we would go into town and get some candy. now, back in the day, you could give the shopkeeper one bronze winglet - which is worth about as much as a ciggarette butt - and he would give you the entire stock of the store. so we would go and get our candy, and we'd go into the town square and eat it.