Dear Diary,
Well here I am again and I must say the storm clouds’ve gathered and dissipated and gathered and dissipated more times than a cat washes its bottom when you’re eating lunch. But there we have it.
Directly after I wrote in you last, Dear Diary, I did wot I said I was gonna do and swung around and went back to have it out with Misther Patchouli Da Fanny and Floozie Da Smelley. ‘Course, I’d intended to be all stealthified about the whole operation and sneak up on them and maybe steal their suitcases full of money before’n they knowed wot’d hit ‘em, but unfortunately I reckoned without the other hundert and ninety-nine pink portable toilet holiday homes wot was following on behind me. It seems like all them fat tourons in loud Bermuda shorts’d got caught short, as the saying goes, and all at the same time. I know wot they says about great minds thinking the same thought, but I guess the same applies to the bowels and bladders of pillocks. Heh heh, it seems they got all covered with their smell stuff the moment I lurched off in a circular direction to visit the end pink portable toilet holiday home, upon which my quarries was busily occupied with the enjoyment of their new fortune. I can only guess at this, on account of fortunately my eyes wasn’t interested in wot the tourons was doin’ in their private times, and therefore wasn’t watching all that closely or spying in through their windows. However, it seems like when I took off, I must’a gone faster’n I’d anticipated and created a wake half as big again as the ones made up inside of those discount kitchen blenders wot one sees in holiday homes and houses of humans wot ain’t got much to look forward to in life.
Naturally, the first thing the tourons did was scream and yell and threaten to sue, or at least that’s wot they done after’n they’d been dumped off’n their toilets and’d picked themselves up off of the floor and wiped the shit off’n their new flip-flops. They next thing they’d done is remember they was on wot was advertised as first ever unique adventure experience offered by The Smelley-Fanny World Adventure Cruise Company! “Holy Jeezus fuck my butt,” they all yelled and screamed at the same time as they threw their hats in the air and drank another mint julep, “Ain’t this the best adventure cruise experience wot’s ever been had!” And after this they dug out their video cameras from under the puddles of leavings on the floor and started in filming each other to beat the band and celebrating the occasion.
Right up until then and there, I’d forgot all about them tourons and wot dogbutts they was, but as soon as I heard them blaspheme about Jeezuz doing wot wasn’t nice, I got all fuming and offended and, I’ll tell you something, I stopped right where I was and got out my megaphone and said, “Yo, Tourons. Shut the fuck up with your blaspheming and wash your mouths out with the lye soap wot’s kept in the little cabinet behind your toilets.” ‘Course, they all thought I was the second-rate comedy act working for The Smelley-Fanny World Adventure Cruise Company and laughed and screamed and jumped up and down even louder’n before, and when they didn’t settle down there was nothing for it than for me to make another big wave and dump ‘em all into the sea, where I’m happy to say they all drowned and was ate by a bunch of piranhas wot afterwards complained to me for giving ‘em indigestion.
Well, Dear Diary, after’n I got that sorted out, I proceeded on my way back to where Misther Patchouli Da Fanny and Floozie Da Smelley was, still counting their new money but looking at me all aghast and annoyed. In fact, they wasn’t even the least bit polite to me when I approached the last pink portable toilet holiday home, which they was using as an office, and the first thing they said was, “Wot do you think you’re playin’ at, Misther Fuck Bus?” Well, right away, I pulled myself up with all my dignity in tact and I said, “For your information, Misther Patchouli Da Fanny and Mizz Floozie Da Smelley, my name is Misther Classic Daimler CVD6 with handcrafter Burlington 33-seat coachwork and NOT Misther Fuck Bus!” Whereupon they answers back and says real nasty, “You’re nothing but Misther Fuck Bus to us and that’s wot you’ll always be!” No sooner’d those words’d gone in and got stuck for all time in my ears, but I asked ‘em, as polite as I could under the circumstances, “and wot did I ever do to deserve this?”
I’m not gonna ruin your day by telling you the next part of the conversation, on account of, believe you me, it only deteriorated further’n further until most o’the fishes in the sea got all sick to death in their morals and moved outta the area. In fact, I myself was is so upset about wot was said that I’m gonna draw wot they calls a veil over that entire hour and a half of my life and then take out a pair of scissors and cut it out of my memory and then boil by brain sparkly white again with some of that acid wot they uses to clean dried on shit off of your chamber pots. However, just so’s you’ll know wot their objection was to my ridding the world of their blaspheming tourons, let me tell you right here and now it was purely for wot they called their financial considerations. Seems they didn’a giva a shit about the tourons or anything they might’a got up to wot was inciting riots and offending all the good folk the world over wot’s got the right sort of well-intended feelings. Wot Misther Patchouli Da Fanny and Floozie Da Smelley was all twisted up about was that these here tourons wot was booked on the first ever and unique adventure excursion cruise operated by The Smelley-Fanny World Adventure Cruise Company had only paid a ten percent deposit, on account of it was the first cruise of its kind in the whole world and nobody knowed wot was gonna happen, and they wasn’t due to pay off the balance until after’n we’d all reached our ultimate destination. Well, when I found that out, I could see why they was so upset, even if they had used me to pull the ‘cruise vessels’ across the globe without asking me first. All in all, the whole thing’s left a bad taste in my mouth, and between you and me, Dear Diary, I feel dirty all over.
Wot I’m gonna do is wake up The Widow Fartie Da Whistle outta her nap, wot she was smart enough not to wake up from up before during this entire aforementioned kafuffle. I’m then gonna beg her to give me one of her hand wax jobs all over me so’s I can snap outta my misery and enjoy the sunshine again. For the time being, I’m hiding my pencil in a safe place and’ll say to you, my sweet friend, Dear Diary, so endeth one of the most horrible days of my life but I’ll see you in the morning.
Well here I am again and I must say the storm clouds’ve gathered and dissipated and gathered and dissipated more times than a cat washes its bottom when you’re eating lunch. But there we have it.
Directly after I wrote in you last, Dear Diary, I did wot I said I was gonna do and swung around and went back to have it out with Misther Patchouli Da Fanny and Floozie Da Smelley. ‘Course, I’d intended to be all stealthified about the whole operation and sneak up on them and maybe steal their suitcases full of money before’n they knowed wot’d hit ‘em, but unfortunately I reckoned without the other hundert and ninety-nine pink portable toilet holiday homes wot was following on behind me. It seems like all them fat tourons in loud Bermuda shorts’d got caught short, as the saying goes, and all at the same time. I know wot they says about great minds thinking the same thought, but I guess the same applies to the bowels and bladders of pillocks. Heh heh, it seems they got all covered with their smell stuff the moment I lurched off in a circular direction to visit the end pink portable toilet holiday home, upon which my quarries was busily occupied with the enjoyment of their new fortune. I can only guess at this, on account of fortunately my eyes wasn’t interested in wot the tourons was doin’ in their private times, and therefore wasn’t watching all that closely or spying in through their windows. However, it seems like when I took off, I must’a gone faster’n I’d anticipated and created a wake half as big again as the ones made up inside of those discount kitchen blenders wot one sees in holiday homes and houses of humans wot ain’t got much to look forward to in life.
Naturally, the first thing the tourons did was scream and yell and threaten to sue, or at least that’s wot they done after’n they’d been dumped off’n their toilets and’d picked themselves up off of the floor and wiped the shit off’n their new flip-flops. They next thing they’d done is remember they was on wot was advertised as first ever unique adventure experience offered by The Smelley-Fanny World Adventure Cruise Company! “Holy Jeezus fuck my butt,” they all yelled and screamed at the same time as they threw their hats in the air and drank another mint julep, “Ain’t this the best adventure cruise experience wot’s ever been had!” And after this they dug out their video cameras from under the puddles of leavings on the floor and started in filming each other to beat the band and celebrating the occasion.
Right up until then and there, I’d forgot all about them tourons and wot dogbutts they was, but as soon as I heard them blaspheme about Jeezuz doing wot wasn’t nice, I got all fuming and offended and, I’ll tell you something, I stopped right where I was and got out my megaphone and said, “Yo, Tourons. Shut the fuck up with your blaspheming and wash your mouths out with the lye soap wot’s kept in the little cabinet behind your toilets.” ‘Course, they all thought I was the second-rate comedy act working for The Smelley-Fanny World Adventure Cruise Company and laughed and screamed and jumped up and down even louder’n before, and when they didn’t settle down there was nothing for it than for me to make another big wave and dump ‘em all into the sea, where I’m happy to say they all drowned and was ate by a bunch of piranhas wot afterwards complained to me for giving ‘em indigestion.
Well, Dear Diary, after’n I got that sorted out, I proceeded on my way back to where Misther Patchouli Da Fanny and Floozie Da Smelley was, still counting their new money but looking at me all aghast and annoyed. In fact, they wasn’t even the least bit polite to me when I approached the last pink portable toilet holiday home, which they was using as an office, and the first thing they said was, “Wot do you think you’re playin’ at, Misther Fuck Bus?” Well, right away, I pulled myself up with all my dignity in tact and I said, “For your information, Misther Patchouli Da Fanny and Mizz Floozie Da Smelley, my name is Misther Classic Daimler CVD6 with handcrafter Burlington 33-seat coachwork and NOT Misther Fuck Bus!” Whereupon they answers back and says real nasty, “You’re nothing but Misther Fuck Bus to us and that’s wot you’ll always be!” No sooner’d those words’d gone in and got stuck for all time in my ears, but I asked ‘em, as polite as I could under the circumstances, “and wot did I ever do to deserve this?”
I’m not gonna ruin your day by telling you the next part of the conversation, on account of, believe you me, it only deteriorated further’n further until most o’the fishes in the sea got all sick to death in their morals and moved outta the area. In fact, I myself was is so upset about wot was said that I’m gonna draw wot they calls a veil over that entire hour and a half of my life and then take out a pair of scissors and cut it out of my memory and then boil by brain sparkly white again with some of that acid wot they uses to clean dried on shit off of your chamber pots. However, just so’s you’ll know wot their objection was to my ridding the world of their blaspheming tourons, let me tell you right here and now it was purely for wot they called their financial considerations. Seems they didn’a giva a shit about the tourons or anything they might’a got up to wot was inciting riots and offending all the good folk the world over wot’s got the right sort of well-intended feelings. Wot Misther Patchouli Da Fanny and Floozie Da Smelley was all twisted up about was that these here tourons wot was booked on the first ever and unique adventure excursion cruise operated by The Smelley-Fanny World Adventure Cruise Company had only paid a ten percent deposit, on account of it was the first cruise of its kind in the whole world and nobody knowed wot was gonna happen, and they wasn’t due to pay off the balance until after’n we’d all reached our ultimate destination. Well, when I found that out, I could see why they was so upset, even if they had used me to pull the ‘cruise vessels’ across the globe without asking me first. All in all, the whole thing’s left a bad taste in my mouth, and between you and me, Dear Diary, I feel dirty all over.
Wot I’m gonna do is wake up The Widow Fartie Da Whistle outta her nap, wot she was smart enough not to wake up from up before during this entire aforementioned kafuffle. I’m then gonna beg her to give me one of her hand wax jobs all over me so’s I can snap outta my misery and enjoy the sunshine again. For the time being, I’m hiding my pencil in a safe place and’ll say to you, my sweet friend, Dear Diary, so endeth one of the most horrible days of my life but I’ll see you in the morning.
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