Frank

Oi Gobby... hun, this punky tim but dim character needs a good fuckin beating. If I track the weasel down and kill him dead, can I come and live with you and Mr G by the seaside?

ooh.. you dirty whore. I'd have your little spud head hanging over the end of the bed whilst I pump out the dip-wick double two time. Peabo Bryson on 12 inch. Good evening sweetpea.

... and where there's a bag of chips, a plinka-plonka and an old trawlerman's hairy... there's Gobbie. Like honey to a bee. Shit.

Your weak and pathetic self-censored watered down version of yourself makes me dizzy. Where's your spunk?... you little prick.

The arrogance of the Stamford Hill, Garden Suburb and Golders Green mob knows no bounds. Overwhelming snidey little things extraordinaire.

​Idiot.

Rise above it, Ed. Tolerate. Thicko.

What on earth has become of this place, Decimus? A talented wordsmith like you allowing the awful cry baby Eddie to post daily trite, is nothing short of criminal. I want him dead.

You almost skipped into a little melody with that one, Ed. 'Racism is racism'..... noted. Cretin.

Yes, you've already mentioned that. You're getting a little heated, Ed. I only wanted to verify that I was dealing with a youth. I'll move on. xx

I making no attempt at humour dear boy... I'm long gone. Cunts on here allowing a vacuous little shite like you to carry on, is just a little... disappointing. No offence.

Fair do's Ed. However, If you're honest with your dire self, you'll agree that you are punching a little above your weight. Idiot.

You are quite simply awful in every respect. A humourless and jazzy fucking nothing. Kill yourself.

You're trying too hard, eddie.. you dim little manchild. Fucking students.

You thick sap.

Dicky Boom Boom of Alpine Glazing in Stanmore taught the Whittaker how to correctly whistle 'Cavatina'. Most people simply blow a tune willy nilly with no regard to technique. It's all in the sucking. Saps.

'That thing you got on your head is a phoney, and it comes from the tail of a pony'. Not a cunt.

Very few tourists in Seville. ​I saw José Tomas in Nimes a few years back… the spic took eleven ears and a tail in one afternoon. Marvellous.

Drop the abuse you stinking scavenger. I was politely enquiring about the state of your Mary. Shove your sandals up your cheap thieving arse.

An old mincer of your standing should not be reduced to trading insults with the likes of kid Snatch. There's thick, then there's thick... then there is Snatch. Good morning.

More or less nearby... Seville-Cadiz-Veyer-Tarifa. Do you have a dusty dreadlocked and matted fanny like most of the travelling Brit-gyps in Spain? Fucking Bob Marley on loop, converted transit vans and unwashed toilet dodgers.

I'm making one last stand, decimus. To destroy all that jazz.

It's been a long time, spotcunt. I see it's all satnavs and smart phones these days.

... probably some dried up old potato-chips stuck in your gob from the night before... you dirty whore. I won't ask again.

Assuming you were dressed in your usual finery... flared and frayed stone-washed jeans, Stone Island military top and dirty shoes, your face fucking boast is at best questionable. I was in Seville for the start of the bullfighting season. How about you and Gobbie joining me in July for the Pamplona 'Running of the Bulls'. She'd deepthroat the legs of them hairy toro's.