Hello there morey, Osama here!
This little fellow named Wazza came waltzing into the cave reeking of cheap rum and smoking the cave out with fucking cigarettes claiming he knows you and telling me a whole heap of long involved stories.
He told me how he ate the barman at the Stevedore’s Arms dinner, poured a bucket of water over the bar manager at the Doctor Syntax, would light up cigarettes in pubs to piss the management off and was liable to get naked in drinking establishments.
He reckons he wants to be a fucking martyr and blow himself up and take the Stevedore's fucking Arms up to heaven with him.
I told him of our plan to set up Nugent as a training camp, gave him the airfare and sent him on his way down there as my ear holes were fucking hurting as he didn’t shut his trap.
See you soon morey!
Lay off the piss a bit!!