Anti Moly replies

WOEFUL!

I want to make it clear to all of you that I never under any circumstances read Eccles's vicious and cruel blog, which takes trivial incidents from my life and exaggerates them out of all proportion.

For example, in his entry of 8th July 2011, when he first recorded my arrival, he referred to me incorrectly as "Grate-Ant Molly," and claimed that I had been detained at the police station for vagrancy (which my illiterate nephew spells "vaguerancy"). In fact, I had merely gone there to report that someone - probably a fanatical Catholic - had put 25 baby possums in my hotel room; they were running round the room, bouncing up and down on my bed, and they knocked over six bottles from my meagre supply of medicinal gin.

Then again, in the entry of 9th July...

[50 pages deleted here. Sorry, Anti Moly!]

Anyway, having corrected all the errors in Eccles's nasty blog, let me take the opportunity to dispel the most recent rumours, namely, that I deliberately tried to kill my nephew by cooking a poisonous meal for him.

Delicious bush tucker

In Pottymouth, the beautiful Australian city where I normally live (although at present I am an exile in London), we don't have any pathetic pommy squeamishness about food. Spiders, snakes, old socks, hairbrushes... all these constitute "bush tucker," and are delicious when fried in gin. On Sunday I decided to do some cooking, as everyone else in the household had gone to church, and I made a delicious Pottymouth Goulash à la Cardinal Pell - named after an old admirer of mine. Perhaps I added too much anti-freeze - such is life, eh - for when Eccles came back to partake of this culinary delight, he was very ill. However, I ate some myself, so that proves it was harmless.

Eccles has also written some misleading comments about my false teeth.

My new set of false teeth

It is true that I lost my previous set of false teeth, and it is even true that a Catholic priest found them and venerated them as a relic. However, I did not throw the teeth at him - they slipped from my hand when I was gesturing to him to get lost. I'm just putting the record straight here, although those fanatical traddy Catholics are determined to lie about the events.

While I am here, perhaps I can also set the record straight about the events of June 2010, when judy8 (note, no capital letter!) was not banned from Damian Thompson's blog, whatever people say. Far from it: indeed, Damian invited me to write my own Telegraph blog, because he was so impressed by my incisive debating style. It's true that judy8 vanished and I came back under the names of AlfredHaddock (no space) and molybdenite (lower case); however, these were not sockpuppets but...

[Another 50 pages deleted here. Sorry again, Anti Moly!]

Well, that's the short explanation, anyway. I can give more details if anyone wants them.

Let me close with a few comments about England. It really is a woeful place, with a high concentration of pommies, Catholics, males, females, young people, old people and middle-aged people - these are all sections of society that I dislike strongly. The worst freaks of all are to be found on the Telegraph blogs pages, although I make an exception for courteous, saintly, polite and charming Charles Cutley Utley, the celebrity blogger, novelist and lawyer. He has not been seen lately, and it seems that he is greatly changed by his sufferings; however, he has sent me a recent photograph, which I would like to share with you.

"Slightly grumpy" Charles Utley

Well, stands the church clock at ten to three, and are there spiders still for tea? I think so. Such is life, eh.

moly

We is comin to Enggland

We was rellaxin in Anti Moly's huose in Stickybeak Street one evenin. I was queitly readin Damain Thopmson's blogg and wonderin whevver UKIP was saved, and Anti Moly was watchin her favuorite programm on de telly, which is Benny Hill cos he does de Yakety-Sax music at de end where he gets chased by lotsa girls. She fuond it much more soothin dan de prevviuos programm, which was an interveiw wiv Cradinal Pell abuot de menttal probblems dat old ladies suffer - when she saw him she screemed "Woeful!" and frew her flase teeth at de telly.

We gotta knock on de door and a strangley familair cosstume lawman was standin there.

 

 "G'day, g'day, g'day!" he said, dis bein wot Austrialan police is trained to say. "Molly Badnite alias Judy Headache, we has been gettin dozens of compliants about you bein a  public niusance. Why doesnt you go away for a while, so dat we aint forced to arrest you?"

So my dere Anti decided dat we wuold vissit Enggland, which is where Anti's ancesstors came from until dey was sent off to Bottany Bay. We made a list of all de poeple we wuold try and visit, dat Moly has said she reely admires, such as Damain Thopmson, St Cuttley, Richard Dakwins, Tina Beattie, de Duchess Camila, Tom Chivvers, and so on. We got a good range of celebritties dere, includdin de devuot and saintly like Cuttley and Thopmson, de loonies like Beattie and Dakwins, and de braney types like Chivvers and Camila.

However, Anti gave me a warnin about Enggland, as we walked down de street to de shops: "Dem Pommie bastards is all racists, Eccles. Dey aint multicultured and tollerant like we is." Kickin a passin abboriginal wot had strayed onto de pavement, she continnued: "Look at dere spellin, for instance. Dey is racist cos dey tells off Americans for spellin baddly." Pussonally, I aint never had a probblem wiv spellin, so I didnt reely understand wot she was gettin at.



Dat's a pitcher of my Anti Moly in a bad mood, some poeple says dat she ressembles Dr Jonhson slightly. Sometimes I feels like Boswell takin down de immotral words of Jonhson, cos my Anti never reely stops producin purls of wissdom, like de epiggrams above. I admits dat dey is a bit repettitive, like when she says "ROFL" half a dozen times. I don't fink Jonhson said "ROFL" except on specail occasoins. Also dere is a limmit to how many times you can prettend dat "Such is life" is a new and strikin obversation on de humman conditoin. De way of a boigrapher aint so easy.

Our freind Damain Thopmson have got a new book out soon, which Bosco and me helped him write when he visitted us in Lost Angels. Anti Moly finks we mihgt go and see him sing coppies of it, but she promissed she wont take a few locks of his hair as souvennirs, like she did wiv poor old Cuttley.



In Enggland dey got a delickacy called an Eccles cake. I hopes it is better dan de Austrialan delickacy known as de Moly cake, which is pretty repullsive, frankly. Eatin dem widgety grubbs is an acquirred taste.

Anti Moly's Memiors

"Has you got any organs, Anti?" I asked my dere Grate-Ant Moly a few days ago.
"Well, we has got an old barrel organ in de attic," she said. "As you know, I was a virtouso performer of de Yakety Sax tune at Methoddist funerals, in my yuonger days. Also I used to take Bosco out into de street to make music, when he was a wee lad."



Dat's Anti Moly and my dere bruvver Bosco givvin a recittal in de street.

"Nope, I don't fink dat's what I meant, Anti," I explaned. "You see dere is a loony in Manchesster wot finks dat Jessus had both male and female organs. Dem's what dey calls hermenuetics. De Pop knows all about it."

Anti Moly told me I was an idoit (dem's creul words, Anti), and went on to reveel dat de time has come to write her memiors, becuase she has lived a very interrestin life, and it is only rihgt dat de humman race shuold be able to read all abuot it. At pressent all she does is reveal little snippets of her autoboigraphy on uvver poeple's blogg, which of cuorse is much more interrestin dan discussin de actaul topic of de blogg.

"But you is very busy, Anti, pickin fights wiv Cathlics 24/7," I said. "Why doesnt you get someone to gohst-write de book?"
"Dat's a good idea, Eccles," said Anti Moly. "I can tell dem de story about how I trekked in de Himalayers lookin for de Dolly Llama, and got mistaken for de Abonimable Snowman. Also de true facts about my romances wiv Hermann Gorring and Cradinal Pell. Den dey can write it up propperly."

Anti is still very cross becuase George Pell refusses to admit dat he ever knew her, but she is tryin to console herself wiv anuvver admirrer, wot comes ruond to drink cammomile tea wiv her (dat's a code word we is now using for cream de menth, cos we doesnt want people to fink she drinks a lot).



We has tried askin St Cuttley, de cellebrated novelist, author of de best-cellar "Thopmson takes charge," to gohst-write Anti's memiors, but he has very pollitely declinned, cos de stresses of copin wiv his fambly is keepin him too busy.

I mentoined to Anti Moly dat dere is a tallented writer wot keeps donkeys on de Costa Blanca (Spane), and wot is very used to writin under false names, but she went into a fit of historics and I had to give her some more cammomile tea - if you knows what I mean (dere is a sutble clue below).



So we is still finkin abuot a gohst-writer. Dere's a cosstume holly man called Peter Mullen wot has retired now, and mihgt be availlable. Or else dere is Damain Thopmson, wot dont seem to be doin very much dese days.

I spose I might try writin up Anti Moly's memiors myself, but I is reely quite busy wiv dis blogg, wot gives spiritaul nuorishment to many poeple who wants to be saved.

I is concluddin today wiv a jolly pitcher of a dove, as authenticatted by Anti Moly de grate orthinologist. I fink it is saying "Ho Ho, you aint saved!"

Cuttley takes charge

We has had a very excittin day, as de famuous cellebritty novellist Cuttley came to Lost Angels to sing copies of his grate postmoddern novel, "Thopmson takes charge".

We saw an advert in de local paper sayin dat Cuttley was commin, and advertisin "FREE POT. CANNAPIS FOR EVERY CUSSTOMER". Dey is very fond of Cannapis ruond here, as Damain Thopmson knows, cos he came here last summer to resaerch it.

Anti Moly was very excitted dat de pius saintly pollite culltured devuot and courteuos St Cuttley was commin (she has got a statue of him dat she kisses reggularly). "I gonna get a relick of him," she said, packin her scissors (to cut a lock of hare, or maybe to give him a manic-cure) and a chane saw in case she cuold get a finger or a toe that Cuttley weren't partticularly needin dat day. Dis is a probblem dat saints has, peoples is allways choppin bits off you for souvennirs.

I asked Anti whether Cuttley was gonna be like Tom Jonnes, wiv lotsa excited girls frowing dere underwares at him. "Nope, I is savin dat for when Cradinal Pell comes," she repplied. A lucky escape for Cuttley, I finks.

Dat's Cuttley on his way to de bookshopp in a Cuttleymobile, to protect him from Anti Moly and other fans.

When we got to de bookshopp, dere was a band playin de music "Hale de conqeuring herro comes!" Dis Cuttley chap was very civillised and offered us a glass of Taylor's Vinttage Pot, apparrently it's a drink, and de Cannapies is a sorta little bits of food. Anti Moly got out her chane saw, ready to take some rellics, but Cuttley pollitely declined to cooperrate. "Sorry if I is bein rude to you," he said to Anti Moly, "but I is needin all my bons at de moment. Wuold you like a lock of my hare instedd? I hope I aint bein too discourteuos and outspokken here."

Dis is a pitcher of Cuttley after Anti Moly had finished takin a few locks of his hare. She also got his shirt, but I aint gonna show dat on dis blogg. Dis Cuttley chap he is a laywer, so he can wear a wigg to hide his bladness in court. I fink de jugde aint gonna be so happy if he dont have a shirt on, so I hopes he gotta spare one in his extenssive wardrob.

Anyways, a good time was had by all, and Anti Moly has forgivven Cuttley for an accidental resemblence between her and de gin-sodden Mattron in de book. I expect it was a coincidennce.

I meets an Angliccan

Nuffink to report from my dere bruvver Bosco (Pop Bozodict I) todday. He is in de gardden writtin papal bulls. I did take a pitcher so dat you can see how dificult it is if de bull dont want to be written.



De life of a Pop sure aint as easy as it looks.

Anyways, we had a knock on de door, and dere was a cosstume holly man standin dere. "Ullo," he said. "I is Farver Malcoml, an Angliccan preist in good stand-in." I has discovvered dat when preists says "good stand-in" dey means dat dey finks everryone else is in bad stand-in, and dey is gonna tell em.



Farver Malcoml says he aint a typiccal Angliccan, as he is very infleunced by Bhuddism. Anti Moly took to him immediately, as she met de Dolly Llama when she was a little girl and he won her devottion by givvin her lots of gin. Dem Bhuddists is also very skilled in marital arts, which means you gotta say "Om" and frow poeple out of de winder. But Farver Malcoml has got a quick temper, and I hopes he dont give me a Carroty Chop or try doin Juddo. He says dat he read a lot of Jong too, dat's a fammuos Korrean Philosoper what died recently.

Anyways, Farver Malcoml went out for a walk in de street wiv Anti Moly, lookin for oportunnities to commit greivuos boddily Om.



Dat's Anti Moly practisin her Kong Foo.

Aldough I is saved alreddy, and my big bruvver is an Antipop, I is very interrested in lookin at non-Chritsian relligoins like Angliccanism. I heard dere was a famuous Jewish Rabi (not a Rabit, dats somefink different) called Bellattor in de nieghbourhood, and I was finkin of going to see what he gotta say as well.

---

Reggular readers will know dat at de end of Augusst Bosco won a stateu of St Peter in a competitoin, well not de whole stateu, just a big foot. We has put it in de gardden, and it attracts monks from miles aruond what wants to be devotted to it. Here is one of dem givvin it a kiss.



I don't fink he can be saved.

---

Brakin News. Anti Moly is wonderin whevver to sue de grate novellist Cuttley for libbel. In his best-sellin novvel "Thopmson takes charge" dere is a charracter called "Mattron" wot is a lazy old lady who drinks lotsa gin. Anti Moly is takin it as a pussonal insullt.

De Austrialan serenad

We is still bein pestered at nihgt by an Austrialan serenadin my Anti Moly. Last night she frew a bucket of plattypus suop over him, and he ran away leavin de words of his luv song behind. So I is typin dem in now, but I aint got time to correkt de spellin.

Tie Mo-lybdenite down, Sport,
Tie Mo-lybdenite down.
She's just melting right down, Sport,
So tie Mo-lybdenite down.

Smash her PC with a brick, Nick,
Smash her PC with a brick,
She's getting on everyone's wick, Nick,
So smash her PC with a brick.

Take her bottles away, Ray,
Take her bottles away,
She's been drinking all day, Ray,
So take her bottles away.

Put my Auntie to bed, Fred,
Put my Auntie to bed.
The blogging's gone to her head, Fred,
So put my Auntie to bed.

Anti hopes dat it is Cradinal Pell come to serenad her, but I got some duobts here.

---

My bruvver Bosco is very concerned about de worship of a Cathlic iddle called Saint Claws, wot we is seeing everywhere right now. Evil-lookin chap, aint he?



But some poeple worshipp de pius, saintly, good pollite St Cuttley instedd - for example, here's a pitcher of a Cathlic monk worshippin a scared rellick of de famuous novellist.



Bosco explaned to Anti Moly dat Cathlics fink it is puffectly normal to take rellics from saints. She was finkin of goin to Englland wiv a pair of scisors to cut off a lock of Cuttley's beuatiful hair; or maybe he can be persuadded to spare a bon or two if she takes her chane saw wiv her.

---

Meanwhile, Farver Arfur is still very worried dat Richard Dakwins may come and arrest him. So when he goes out to do cosstume holly man fings he has to wear a disgiuse. Here he is rellaxin in our house. In order to blend in wiv everyone else he is bein very cunning and readin de newspapper.

Anti Moly on de jurry

In her younger days, Anti Moly was on de jurry of a very excittin murder trail, and she was tellin Bosco and me about it. My Anti Moly is a grate lady, even thuogh she aint saved, so I gonna put de story here too.

It was all about a gang of people accused of murderin someone in a catheddral. Dey swore in de jurry, and when Anti Moly's turn came de usher said "Has you any connectoins wiv de laywers or de defenndants?"

"I hates dem!" said Anti Moly.
"Who?" asked de usher.
"All of dem!" said my dere Anti. "De laywers got wiggs on, dey is sockpoppets, probbably from a traddy cliqque. Allso I knows de judge cos when I was a cleanin lady I used to clean his chammbers. Dey was fillthy I can tell you and..."
"Dat's enough of dat, Mrs Haddock," said de usher. "It dont count."
"Ho hum, I was wonderin why I got frew de gin so quickly," commented de judge.

Here's a photto of Anti Moly addressin de court.



"Does you sware by Almihgty God to be an honest jurrer, to stay awake, and not to shout 'sockpoppet' at de judge?" asked de usher.
"ROFL," said Anti Moly. "I doesn't believe in any gods. And I aint callin him 'Yer honor', he dont know any more about law than I does, I saw de Merchant of Venus at de Pottymouth Playhuose. Dont fink you can pretennd dat de quallity of mercy is straned, you poor sad woeful creecher, cos it aint." (De Pottymouth Playhuose is what Anti Moly used as a sauce of learnin in de old days before she got her educcation from Goggle and Wikkipedia. Usaully dey acted herroic tales of jolly swagmans jumpin into billaboings, but sometimes dey did Shakespear too.)

Well, de case finally got started. De crinimals in de dock was accused of stabbin a Cathlic preist in good standin, and dey pleaded guilty. Since an artist was standin nearby to paint a pitcher of the scene, de evvidence was probbably overwhemling.



"Well," said de judge, "I fink your clients has come to de rihgt decission, Mr Cuttley."
"Objectoin!" screemed Anti Moly. "You aint tellin me dat its a crime now to murder Cathlics, you silly man wiv a wigg?"

De judge was very angrry and he sentenced my Anti Moly for Contepmt of Court. Dis is what dey did to her, and she was very cross.



Dis herroic tale have inspired my bruvver Bosco, dat maybe he can become a judge. Bosco will miss de Day of Judgement, bein saved already, but maybe he can help God make up his mind about dem what aint alreddy saved. So you all gotta be nice to Bosco, he got infleunce.

Anti reads a book

Now dat Bosco has escapped from de Cathlic dugneon, he hates dem unsaved pests more dan evver. Howevver at present he is spendin most of his time goin ruond de huose kissin de stattues and sayin fings like "I has missed you darlin St Peter", so dat it is Anti Moly wot gets in de lyme lihgt todday.

First, I took a photto of de touchin scene where Bosco returned to his luvvin Anti and bowed down before her. He reely worhsips his Anti Moly.



My Anti Moly is a grate admirrer of de Pop's red shoes what he wears, and she says of him, "Dis yuong man he has some traddy ideas about murder (against), theft (against) and baring flase witness (against), but he sure is a leader of fashion." So she have buoght herself lots of red shoes, dey used to call her de Immedla Macros of Pottymouth, when she was in Austriala, cos she got so many of dem. She was grately admired by Cradinal Pel, she says, but Cradinals aint sposed to chase girls, even uggly ones, so dat nuffink came of it. Dat makes her reely sad sometimes.



Anuvver fing dat is excittin her is dat her grate herro, de piuos polite charmin (etc.) St Cuttley have written a book, called "Thopmson Takes Charge", and we fink he is gonna come here to sing coppies in de shopps. Dis Cuttley he is a little old-fahsioned, and de book aint produced wiv modern technogoly, but she is enjoyin it very much and reeds out passages to us at brekfast.



Perhapps I will reed de book myself later, and find out what it is all about. I fink it's set in a shcool wiv some nuaghty boys called Dellingpol and Hanann, dese names seem strangley familliar.

We is goin out tonihgt as a fambly to see a classic play about de ruogh life of a molydbenite minor in de Austrialan outback, strugglin to bring in de preciuos ore.

On de poster it says my Anti Moly is directin it. Dis means dat she screems "Sockpoppet" at de actors when she finds out dey aint reely de poeple dey is dressed up as, she never got de hang of dramma.

Also, if you looks carefully, you can see de word "idiot" on de poster, dat's a special refference to my dere bruvver Bosco, who comes in half way thruogh to say "You aint saved," it's good dat a play has a spiritaul message like dat.

Anti wins a prize

As you all know, my Grate-Anti Moly is a grate admirrer of de fammous blogger Cuttley, who she describes as "saintly, piuos, holly and wise, and not like dat clique of traddy Cathlics." Indeed, when Bosco knocked de head off a stateu of St Peter a month ago, she had anuvver head made, so dat she had an iddle of Cuttley to worhsip. Here it is again.



Anyway, de Tellegrahp held a compettition "Complete de folowwin in not more than 12 extra words: 'My favuorite Tellegrahp blogger is X X becuase ...' and win a stateu of him or her."

Dat's a real chalenge. Does you go for de meek and humble Delingpol what is always warnin us about crabon emmisions? Perhaps de intelect of Broiny Gorddon is what excites you? Or de beuaty of Mary Riddle? Dere is our old freind Damain Thopmson who has done more dan anyone else allive to warn us about de evil Joanne Hairy. Or perhaps you likes Stephen Huogh what plays de pianner in pubs? Or dere's Nomran Tebit and Daneil Hannann, what knows about currant afairs, what a pity dey never went into politicks. Pussonally, I likes wise old Goeffrey Lean who has been an envroinmental coresspondent for 80 years and knows about de dangers of horseless carraiges.

"I's gonna win dis," said Anti Moly. Dis is what she entered.

"My favuorite Tellegrahp blogger is Tom Chivvers becuase he is kind, freindly, cheerfull, cheeky, handsome, sensible, and not a Cathlic."

Anti won, and here is de stattue dat dey has just delivvered. It goes well wiv de stattue of Cuttley.



Of course Tom Chivvers aint saved, but we has high hopes of gettin him to come along to de Calumny Chappel some time, dressed as a clown.

I has just got time to show you a fambly snapp. Dis is my Anti Moly gate crashin de royal weddin of Willaim and Katte, disgiused as a nun (she is de old one wot looks cross). Some time I is gonna have to find out how dis happened. Anti Moly says she was dere incoggnito as a seccret agent to prottect de happy cuople, but it's more likely dat she was simply runnin away from de pollice and took a wrong turning.

Moly and Dolly

Bosco he have been very quiet reccently, as he is preparin his campaing for becommin de next Pop. Dis aint as easy as it sounds, as you gotta get lotsa Cradinals to vote for you, and dem Cradinals mostly aint saved. It aint no good havin a fish hat and de right robes if you cant git dem to vote for you. So Bosco he is writtin to all de Cradinals wiv de followin tactfull message:

ULLO COSTUME HOLY MAN, YOU AINT SAVED. VOTE BOSCO FOR POP!

Dis is a pitcher of a Pop, notice dat he is about to swallow a live birdie. Bosco says he aint never done dat, but he eats pet hamsters sometimes and it cant be much different.



Anti Moly have been doin more interestin things, as she have decided to become a Bhuddist. Dis is partly becuase she says she was a Haddock in a previous incranation, but more becuase she once met de Dolly Llama and said dat he was nearly as holy as St Cuttley, wot she so admires.

Dis Dolly Llama is very old, it says on Wikkipedia dat he was born in 1391. Anti Moly says she met him in about 1920, when she was a litle girl on holliday in Tibbet. He invited her into de summer pallace and gave her as much gin as she wanted. She says he is straihgtforward, honnest, tollerant and kind, unlike de Pop who didnt even offer her a cup of tea.

I buoght a statue of de Dolly Llama for Anti Moly to kiss, and here it is. But she replied "You is a morron, Eccles." What is I doin wrong?



I also fuond dis pitcher of a Bhuddist sittin in a pond which is what Bhuddists likes doin. Dere is someone lookin over his shuolder which at first sihgt looked like Anti Moly but it turns out to be a cobbra. Perhaps it is my Anti Moly in a prevvious incranation.

Worshipin fishes

Bosco and me is still down at de seeside, wiv Anti Moly, and Bosco have got a new thoery about de Cathlic churhc wot he read in a commic. Dey is all fish-worshipers, startin wiv dat rotten man Peter who dey fink was someone improtant wiv de keys to Heaven. Dats nonsense for a start as dere is several sets of keys to Heaven, Bosco got a set himself, he buought dem on Ebbay, because he is saved.

At de seeside, dere is lotsa fishes and we wasnt suprised to see some dames in fish hats goin to Mass at de Cathlic churhc.



Anti Moly shouted at her: "Traddie sockpoppet! Why cant you be like darlin sweet Cuttley wot I adores so?" De dame was a bit nonnplused but went into de Mass.



Dis one also got some powerful religgious cricketism from Anti Moly, viz she frew a gin bottle at her, but it missed.

Bosco was explainin to me dat de Cathlics is all de hares of Doggone, de Babbleonion fish god, and dat de Pop is de worst offender, and he definittely aint saved. Indeed, when dey say preists wears Dog Collars, dey is reely Doggone Collars. Did you ever see a dog wearing a white band like dem cosstume holly men does? Nope. So you sees what I means.

I aint managed to find a pitcher of de Pop worshipin fishes, but here he is in a boat, and dats pretty suspicoius, innit?



Bosco have deccided dat de only way to save de Cathlic churhc is for dem to make him de next Pop. We is luanchin our campaing now, BOSCO FOR POP, and we hopes for your support.

De Cathlics is counterattackin and dey says dat Bosco he is also tianted by de fish herressy. I am sure dat dere is a good explannation for dis pitcher of de hotel in which we is all stayin.

Dat sockpoppet relligion

My grate-anti Moly says dat sockpoppetry is a Cathlic fing, and so Bosco sent me to a Cathlic mass to see if dat was reely the case.

So I went incoggnito to de church of de Sacrred Socks of St Micheal. I was met by a saintly pollite courtoeus man who gave me a hynm book, and said he was a laywer who worked for de internattional firm of Cutley, Butley and Mutley. He asked me a strange quetsion, viz, "How manny poeple is you gonna be todday?" Dat's odd. Usaully when we goes into de Calumny Chappel dey asks a much simpler quetsion, viz, "Is you saved, bruvver?"

I went into de churhc, and de service was given by a costume holly man who said he was de Bishopp of Bennidrom. He startted de Mass, although he went off to de vesttry after a while, probbably to kiss an iddle. Dis is a pitcher of de Bishopp of Bennidrom.



Later on I remmember a disgustin old lady takin de collecttion, carryin a broom stick wiv which she kept hittin poeple. She was wearin a pointy hat and looked just like my Anti Moly. Anuvver person I spotted in de church was bein a bit of a trubble-maker, frankly. When one of de costume holly men said "Lift up your hearts," he said "No I won't. ROFL." Then when de preist said "The Mass is ended, go in peace," de man said "No it isn't. No I won't. Twist and Shout."

To my astonnishment at the end of de Mass I realissed dat de laywer, de bishopp, de old lady and de trubble-maker was all de same person. In fact, thinkin about it I now realises dat nearly everryone in de churhc had bin goin out and comin in in different disgiuses (dere was annuvver one who dressed up as Stallin, den he came back wavin a cricket batt, dat confussed me, as we doesnt have dem in de Calumny Chappel, if we needs to chasstise kids we uses baseball bats).

Dey explaned it to me dat since God is 3 pussons (de Trinnity), de Cathlics fink dat dey shuold also be 3 pussons as well. My Anti is certianly wanted by de cops in Enggland, Austriala and de USA under de names of Judy, Alfie and Moly, so I asked her if she was plannin to become a Cathlic. Now I got her flase teef embedded in my leg, dat probbably means no.

I luvs my dere Anti so here is a new photto of her.

Illness in de fambly

My Grate-Anti Moly is sufferin badly from Roflitis. As I has mentoined before, she gits dese spamsms when she can do nuffin but cakcle and roll on de floor. Sometimes it even happens in de street, when she is on her way to de gin shop.



Here is a sample diallog dat we has.

Bosco: Anti Moly, Hunny, I has to point out to you dat you aint saved, and dat your stateu of de celebritty blogger Cutley is a cement iddle. Whats wuss, he is a Cathlic and destinned for de Lake of Fire.
Anti Moly: Rofl!
Eccles: My dere bruvver Bosco is rihgt, Anti. You is a lost sheep wot Jessus wants to save. Dey say he's very good wiv bad-temppered sheep and dem sheep what drinks too much. Anti, I finks dat gittin saved mihgt be a wise move.
Anti Moly: Rofl! Rofl!
Eccles: Bosco my dere, I gonna sing a Calumy Chappel hynm to our dere Anti.

We is brihgt and beuatiful,
Our preechers dey is wise,
God says we is wonderful
And goin to de skies.

Each little nun you beat up,
Each little concrete dove,
Dey shows we's gonna meet up
Wiv rapture all above.

Chorrus (We is brihgt and beuatiful).

We don't care if we sins now,
Cos dey is all forgaved.
We does just what we likes now,
Because we all is saved.

Chorrus (We is brihgt and beuatiful).

Anti Moly: Rofl! Rofl! Rofl!
Bosco: Shut up Eccles, or does I mean Hilda? My head is achin again.

Anyways, Anti Moly is currently havin a rest cure in St Hysteria's hopsital for de danggerously silly, and we hopes dat dey will be able to cope wiv her. She started by frowin de encephologrom apparattus out of de winder, but now dey straped her down and is tryin to cure de Roflitis.



It aint all bad news. Bosco has stopped sleepin in a box, and avoiddin de daylihgt, so perhaps he is gettin over de shock of bein bitten by Camila. He is still pinnin for de fat acktress called Hildda tho. He discovvered dat she gotta duaghter and he wants to take dirty phottos of her for his own blogg. Dat's very rude Bosco, and I cant fink of many saved poeple who puts dirty phottos on dere bloggs.

Eccles and Bosco is pure

I is very cross wiv Grate-Anti Moly, cos she has been spreddin rumors about me. She told her frends dat my luvvly blogg was full of SEX. Dat aint nice, Anti Moly, cos I is pure in hart and I has been saved. Likewise if you looks at Bosco's blogg you will see dat he never mentions SEX on it. He dont even know what de word means, we was both away when dey did dat in shcool.

We got all sorts of pevrets singing into my blogg now and leavin nasty messages. I fink dat Anti Moly told dem dat it was de place to come for pornorgaphy and dey was dissapointed.

Dis Moly is my own flesh and bludd, viz Mom's Anti who was bannished to Austriala and escapped to visit us. If she weren't our fambly, I would be phonin dem pollite and courtoeus laywers, Cutley, Butley and Mutley, to help me soo her for libble. I gotta reputtation to deffend, I is workin hard as a Telegrahp Muddlerator over de summer. Bosco aint gotta reggular job, but he got a key positoin in soceity as a part-time Calumny Chappel Sundy School Teecher, Kid-dissciplinarrian, Nun-torturrer, Cement Dove-polisher, and Buoncer. Also he is repsonsible for our Mission to Save de Cathlics, althuogh he aint got very far wiv dat.

Dis is my laywer, bein kissed by an angle becuase he is saved. Anti Moly you libbles me at your perril.




Well, Bosco got into deep trubble wiv Camila Van Pyre his reggular girlfiend, after he went out to a big dinner wiv an acktress who told him her name was Hilda (dis was explaned last time). Camila came round and screemed at him "Dubble-dealin two-timin crettin!"
Anti Moly chimed in wiv screeches of "Sockpoppet!"
We got a tellephone call from de neihgbours complainin about de niose "If dat's de Calumny Chappel Chior Practise, cuold you do it more queitly?" dey said. "But de quallity of your chorral signing is sure gittin better." Dey is reely dubm we doesnt sign any hynms about Cathlics bein dubble-dealin two-timin crettins, except at funnerals.

Bosco he got cross and said "Bite me!" and dat was not a good move, as Anti Moly's 3-headed dog (we is callin him Spot now) gave him some nasty wuonds in de leg, and Camila bit Bosco in de thraot. I gotta nasty feelin about dis, Bosco.

Here is a touchin romantic pitcher of Bosco and Camila.



Bosco gotta see a dentist tomorrow, his teef seems to be growin suddenly. Also he refussed to eat de garlic bread we had wiv our dinner. Dey say dat cupples start to ressemble each uvver, and I fink Bosco is adopttin some of de habbits of Camila Van Pyre.

Bosco's birfday pressent

It was Bosco's birfday, and now dat de banddages was off Bosco was able to enjoy it to de full. I had saved up my monney and buoght Bosco a lovely religuos arttifact, viz a stattue of St Peter for de gardden. Bosco he was not very pleased by dis, he said it was an iddle and he knokced de head off.

Here is Bosco's birfday pressent after he got cross wiv it.



"Dat stuppid Eccles he aint never got de hang of iddles," he said. "He finks de saccred dove of de Callumny Chappel dat we bows down to is an iddle, and he dont recognise a real blashpemy when he sees it. He aint gonna be saved liked me."

Dem's creul words Bosco, and what's more he still seems to think I is called Hilda, dats crazzy. We was gonna frow de stattue out, but Grate-Anti Moly said she mihgt have a use for it, and she got a scluptor to make a new head to her own dessign.



"Dat's luvvly," she said. "You can see dat he is a pius saintly wise pusson, not like dem traddie Cathlics."

She sez it is de cellebrity blogger Cuttley. What's more he have written a best-sellin commic novell and will be visitin Lost Angels soon to sing coppies of it. But Bosco sez he aint saved.

A truimph for Anti Moly

My dere bruvver Bosco is still convalecsing. De banddages will soon be off and he will be able to ressume a normal life as a saved pusson loved by Jessus who only wants to do de Lords will and beet up Cathlics.

Here is Bosco gittin up in de mornin after spendin de night in de fridge, as he is still very hot and he don't want a meltdown like Grate-Anti Moly.



Indeed Anti Moly was a bit of a niusance last nihgt, she was up until 7 a.m. bloggin. At 5 a.m. we heard banging from her room, and went in to find she was dancin a jigg. "Hee heh hee!" she said. "Fiffteen months hard work has bin rewardded! I gottim at last! He misspelt 'pracktise', de poor pathettic sad Cathlic sockpoppet. Dat eleggant holy devoted cultured pius humbble courteuos devuot saintly witty adorrable learned gentleman Cuttley wuold never have done dat. Now I gottim on de ropes."

It's good dat my Anti has a hobby in life, especailly as de part-time job as a banshee didnt work out too well. We is finkin of gettin a stattue of dis Cuttley chap for Anti Moly to kiss de foot of, it will be a suprise pressent for her.

Bosco is still improvin his mind by readin educkational websites. He was lookin at how.de.pop.organnized.de.riots.in.london.org which gives a puerly factaul account of how Cathlics has been settin fire to biuldings becuase dey fuoght dere was saved poeple inside, and dat dey was steelin televisoins so dat dey cuold worhsip de gravven images on dem.

Bosco dere I fuond dis pitcher dat shows de worhsip of iddles is even worse dan I fought. Here is some dirty Cathlic encuoragin his kids to worhsip a dogg stateu. Dats probbably somethin to do with ancient Egpyt, Bosco.



Bosco sez dat if he cuold he wuold take de kids away from dere parents and have dem bruoght up by de Calumny Chappel. How else can dey be saved?

Bosco's new blogg

I was explanin dat Bosco had got a new much larger nose, owin to de intervvention of St Peter, and dat dis was a mark of favour from de Lord, meaning dat Bosco is even more saved dan he was before.

One of de friuts of de Spirit was dat we got an e-mail from Damain Thopmson, de editor of de Telegrahp bloggs. Damain met us a few months ago when he was in Callifornia. He was sayin dat dere werent so many religgious bloggs as dere used to be (George Pitcher too worried about his bruvver, Geralld Warner sacked, Cristina Oddone gettin a bit crazy, etc. etc.) Damain himself is only writin bloggs about Joanne Hairy and Rebecka Brooks, so what de Telegrahp needs is an incissive commontater on religious topics.

I cuold do it myself, but Bosco is de master of Engglish prose, de langauge of Shakespare and Jeffrey Archer. Damain said, "Well, before we gives you a contract to write a Telegrahp blogg, could you suggest 10 topics dat you mihgt write about?"

Here is Bosco's list.
1. Cathlics aint saved.
2. Cathlics is idolaters wot kiss statues.
3. Don't be a Cathlic, dey is bad.
4. If you is Cathlic you gotta keep bits of corpses in de fridge.
5. Bosco is saved, Eccles is saved, but de Pop aint saved.
6. Dem Cathlics wont stop worshippin gravven images.
7. Its better to be an athiest dan a Cathlic, you never see dem bowin to images.
8. Look I told you folks, you is gonna go to Hell if you are Cathlic.
9. Didnt de Pop burn 10,000 peeple last week for owning a Bibble?
10. Cathlics! Aintcha sickofem?

Damain was a bit stuned and he said he'd let Bosco know, perhaps it mihgt be better to ask de fammous lawyer chap who keeps writin bloggs complanin about his kids wot cant sing.

Bosco finks I should mention a pssalm from de Book of Chuck, what we recites in our Calumny Chappel worhsip:

Roses is red,
Voilets is blue.
I been saved,
How about you?

Bosco my dere, de Calumny Chappel is alreddy venerratin you wiv your long nose. Look what we got here.

Prayers for de sick

Ullo dere Bosco my darlin bruvver, let us ressume de storry of Grate-Ant Molly’s visit. Bosco and me, we had decided to go to de Calumny Chappel for a speshul service of intersession, cos dere is a lot of very sick peoples in de neihgborhood, and we likes to pray for dem. For exapmle, dere is:

1. A pliceman wot was atacked by a scropion (dat's what dey calls Alfie, de pussy cat dat Bosco gave me), and he is in a comma. De pliceman I mean, not Alfie, who has run away and probbably aint in a comma.
2. A little boy who I gave one of dem assenic sweeties dat Bosco buoght for me, and has now got teribble stomahc ache. Maybe he ate somethin bad.
3. A young lady what was walking past our house and was hit by a crossbow bolt wot came frew de winder. Actaully I was lucky cos it was fired by Bosco and very naerly hit me his darlin little bruvver. Bosco says dat I shuoldnt mention this.

Life sure is dangerous in our street. Lukcily I has my bruvver Bosco to look after me.

Dere was also gonna be de usaul prayers dat we does, viz "Oh God please smite de Pop and give him toothahce cos he aint saved and he needs to be tuaght a lesson cos he's still burnin all dem what aint Cathlics. Please also do somefink about de nasty funguss dissease wot Bosco got, even though you cant see it when he's got his clothes on. Hopes you is havin a good time in Heaven, dont let Mary boss you around. Love Eccles, what has been saved, as you may have seen on his blogg. Amen."

We asked Grate-Ant Molly if she would like to come. She said she didnt believe in god or gods, but she would come along and bring her lapptop, as she wanted to write some pungennt cricketism of her enemas. "Has you got enemas, Anti?" asked Bosco. "Who are dey? Let me bite em on my luvvly blogg."
"Dey is everyone on de Damain Thopmson blogg," reply my darlin Anti. "Dey is all fanattical Catlics and sockpopes, except for you, dere Bosco and Eccles, and one or two uvvers like de man who is recoverin from a kick from his pet lama and a famous novellist wot is very pious and writes a blog about how horrid his children are. My enemas has even been mockin me, a laddy of advannced years who has led a very interrestin life. I has to spend all my wakking hours on dis blogg or dey will get de better of me."

However, Great-Anti Molly changed her mind about chruch when we explaned dat we was also gonna sing hynms in de Calumny Chappel, e.g. "Shine on me, and don't shine on de Cathlics". She says she likes Yakety-Sax but I dont fink dat's one of our hynms. So we found her anuvver botle of gin, and she settled down to catch up on her bloggin.It reely ainy much trubble havin Grate-Anti Molly wiv us, except dat gin is expensive.

Dey named a drink after our Grate-Ant, and here it is.

Bosco is interveiwed

My dere bruvver Bosco is too modest to say dis, but he hav become a celebritty on account of his evangellical activities, viz goin up to old ladies in de street and sayin "You aint saved buster. Gimme some cash." So we was not suprised when de Lake Hellsinere Papper sent round its star jounalist, John Hairy, to interveiw Bosco. Dis Hairy he said "Well I aint much good at talkin to people, has you got any writtings dat I can copy out, Mr Bosco?"

We showed him Bosco's luvvly blogg, and Mr Hairy he said "Er, yes, I gotta go to de men's room quick," and den he ruhsed off to vomitt.
"Was it de pitchers?" asked Bosco. "De one of my girlfiend is a little scary if you hasnt seen mummyfied copses before."
"Nope," said Mr Hairy, "It was de grahpic descriptoin of boddily functions. Even in de days befor dey sakced me from de Indepandant we wasnt allowed to menshun dat sort of stuff ecxept when writin about Ryan Gigs."
I dont fink dis interveiw wiv Bosco will ever get printted.

Meanwhile de Calumny Chappel is suing de Battman people for pinchin our saccred loggo wot we bows down to, cos dey has got one simillar:




Woss more de Battman flims has got a charracter called de Jokker wot is evidenttly based on Pastor Parsell of de Calumny Chappel.



We is gettin a leedin firm of lawyers, viz Cutley, Dastardly and Mutley, to look into dis. It aint rihgt dat de sincere beleifs of people should be mokced (unless dey is Cathlics).