A day in the Life of The Iron Duke of North Chingford, Part One.

Going Postal

She was working it like a good ‘un . In Full Kit . Deathshead SS Gestapo hat the fackin Lot.I kid you Not my son. Bit of facking role play like.Art for arts sake and all that caper. Good for the soul so they say. Dont ask me. I aint no head doctor . I just knows what I fackin well likes !!.

Anyway , She was placing cocktail sticks in me bollocks accupunture style to paralyse various nerve centers to stop me from going off to soon into her cocked gestapo hat .Bit like ‘ker plunk’ but with my harry monk replacing the marbles , If that helps you picture the scene with more clarity you dirty cunts.

Going Postal

anyway, there i am, king of the castle, lord of the manor, Cock of the Fackin Walk and about to explode like dry ice and fertiliser in a wogs sock, when fack me !, the fackin door bell goes!. Fack me !! i says to the Missus .Some cunts using up the leccy on That fackin door bell!.Fack that !. Im up in a fackin flash, only turns out to be that dozy old Mare Pat! a lifelong Labour supporter from next door asking me to fix her shopping trolley !!.cunt!.

Before she could get another word out I kneed her in the groin and took the skin off her shins with my heel. Just as i was about to stand back and admire a job of work, The noise brought out those fucking Corbyn loving wankers, Andrew and Hannah AND their two young kids from next door, More Fucking Labour Voters!.
They screamed they were gonna call the old bill!!. so i bit the bridge of andrews nose and stuck my thumbs in that Hannahs eyes.I told the cunts to keep out of it as this was between me and that good for nothing slag pat!. By now all three were on the deck so i gave ’em all the 5 millimeter tread in the mush for good measure.

Going Postal

i was so incensed i doubled back and tapped that bertie smalls , Andrew, round his stupid king tut beard with my wheel brace.

Fackin’ Liberty.Dont Bear Thinking About.

Going Postal

The Iron Duke Of North Chingford.. ©