Tag Archives: letter

An open letter to the Met

Dear Police,

I hope this letter reaches you well, and doesn’t end up at Sting’s house again by accident – that was an embarrassing mishap!

I am just writing to let you know that I am proud of you, and incredibly happy with what you are doing for our fine nation. I recently read in the Daily Express that some horrible hooligans were trying to burn down the Queen so they could put immigrants in her house (which is a nicely decorated house!). I do not know what Chew-ish Urn means, but it sounds like one of those pot-frenzies these tearaways have together underneath their hoodies during knife crime.

Anyway, I lost my train of brain-splattering there. I was congratulating you, so I shall continue: well done for treating these ruffians the way they deserve to be treated. Just because they face a future of incredibly limited access to one of the cornerstones of civilisation as we know it, that doesn’t mean they can put spray paint on a van! It’s a disgusting sign of the times, caused mainly through not enough respect for God, the Queen and country, and the way they all do a drug.

So it was with great pleasure I watched you intimidate this gang of youngsters. I heard somebody say a fair few there were just children, and that the protest was “peaceful” – whatever that means! – but I think he was just a member of the Loony Left and probably reads a the chin-stroker’s digest (that is my funny name that I give to the Guardian newspaper).

It is clear for any right-thinking member of British society to see that these louts were on the verge of something truly nasty. In fact, I’ve been told by another source – the Daily Mail – that some of them made remarks that could have been construed as positive about the EU! What a lark!

So, in summary: the Police. Thank you for threatening, intimidating, beating, bullying and generally taking away the civil liberties of everyone who has been a part of these protests recently. It’s good old-fashioned behaviour like that that stops us from devolving into something like France.


Duncan Tittybums


Filed under Prattle

It’s hard to find the right words


I am writing in response to your letter dated… well, not dated. But I got it in the mail today. It’s taken me a while to think of the words – about half an hour – but I reckon it’s about time to lay it all out there. To clear the air and set some things straight about our relationship.

Frankly, I’m getting a little tired of your revisionist views on what we were. I’m sorry, and I know it must hurt you to hear this, but we were never an item. I know you’ll find it hard to believe that I’m not going out of my way to inflict undue misery on you, but really – I’m not. The last thing I want is for this to be any harder for you than it has to be. But please understand – the truth is sometimes hard for us to accept.

We were together for less time than you seem to think. We were together for less than a year. Less than a month. LOVEFiLM, we were together for less than an hour. It may be your first relationship – that’s what it seems like to me – but I don’t think it requires you to send me a letter begging me to return to you. You can offer all the bribes you want; all the concessions and ‘favours’ you want, but it doesn’t change the fact we never really were an item. I’m sure you’re just confused. I hope this is so, and I hope one day you will come to accept that we weren’t ever anything. Especially not anything worth writing to me about.

I hope one day you will come to realise that I have not written this to hurt, embarrass or upset you in any way. While I stand by what I have said, and there is no chance for a future between us without huge changes in how you approach our relationship, I still care about your well-being. In the future, when things have died down and you have a tighter grasp of the realities as they stand, maybe we can see where we both are – maybe we can work something out.

But for now and for the foreseeable future, I don’t see us being together. That’s the long and short of it.

Take care of yourself,
Ian Dransfield


Filed under Prattle