A Day In The Life Of The Iron Duke Of Chingford, Part Two ‘Old Vi over the road’

Eraser of Love, Going Postal

Had a fucking skinfull last night on the way home and thought id pop into old vi’s Before going Home and use it as a bargaining tool for the enevitable onslaught of my failings as a hunter gatherer and general Homo sapien when i got thru my own fucking  front door .

After talking about her various tumors and how long she has to live  and how none of her family come to see her and that the “vultures are circling”  for her goods and chattels,  I realised id made a mistake of some note and was bored Fackin  shitless.

To cheer her up i cut her off talking all this morose shit and told her of my theory on dormant alien life in north chingford and  ” it very well may be that they will have some form of antenna which will make a clicking and whirring sound like a locust when sexually  aroused, possibly producing a semen type fluid not found on our periodic tables .”

I Racked up a few lines of grade ‘A’ Chisel on the counter and  Continued..”the thing is vi , their pineal frontal lobe may be developed to such an extent , that when resonated at 25,000 rpm, they can see entities in the fourth  dimension, seeing things that no man should see.”

Eraser of Love, Going Postal

To demonstrate my thesis to this silly cow further,  i then hunkered down  on all fours making aggressive  pig like grunts and omitting ghoulish soft moans while  moving like a crab across her ice rink threadbare carpet , while simulating a prolonged climax against her nest of tables with my cock nestling on the cool fabric of her Charles and Di Commemorative  Antimacassar.

for some reason she broke down hysterically and asked me to leave . no drink no nothing!!

Eraser of Love, Going Postal

As good fortune would have it,  i swiped a nice picture frame that should be worth a few bob and provide a bit ‘o’ stake money for the nags tomorrow.
 A  picture of some cunt in a uniform holding a rifle with a chest of medals,  dated june 3rd 1944. So i took it out of the frame  and  put it in the charity bag for starving africans , should cheer them up a bit, always a bit long in the boat for some reason those cUnts, all that year long sunshine as well, they want to be over here with all this facking rain!!

Anyway would you believe it !, all i could hear as i crossed the road having done my good neighbourly deed for the day was a whining high pitched “wilf !..wilf! where are you wilf!”.no wonder he fucked off !.

Eraser of Love, Going Postal

on top of that i still copped an earful from jo for being 6  hours late …

The Iron Duke Of North Chingford.. ©