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

Scottish news

Some Scots confused about sex

Startling news comes from North of the Border, where it has been discovered that many Scots have been confused about which sex is which, all along. Consider the following "Lookalike":

Alex Bastedo, actor and sex symbol, wears a skirt... male or female?

Alex Salmond, actor and sex symbol, wears a skirt... male or female?

It has now finally been explained to some of the less alert Scots that the guys in trousers are usually male (use the door marked "Laddies," chaps!) and the guys in skirts are female ("Ladies").

Alex Salmond has decided that the only way to prevent such confusion in future is to allow for the possibility of same-sex "marriage." However, if you are not sure of the sex of your prospective spouse, then do please ask a qualified doctor to advise you, to avoid embarrassment later.

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New job opportunities for Italian clergy

Viva Italia! Green, white and red

Now that the job of Pope is no longer reserved exclusively for Italians, it has been decided that the post of Archbishop of Glasgow will be the main alternative option for high-flyers. In succession to "Don" Mario Conti, the position has now gone to "Don" Philip Tartaglia, Bishop of Paisley.

Is there a Catholic Mafia in Glasgow?

The position of Archbishop of Glasgow was heavily contested amongst the Italian community, and it was a relief that the succession was established without any serious problems. True, there were a few shoot-outs, car bombs, and garottings, but this is considered to be normal at Masses in Glasgow. It has been agreed in principle that the next Archbishop of Glasgow will come from the Corleone family.

Over in Paisley, life is much quieter, as this picture shows.

A tastefully-dressed resident of Paisley on his way to Mass

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Veneration of relics

The false teeth of Eccles's "Anti Moly," now widely regarded as a sacred relic, continue to make their way round the country, to be venerated by pious Catholics. Here they are seen in Edinburgh, surrounded by adoring crowds.

Relics transported in a special vehicle, donated by the Pope

So far, very few miraculous events have been attributed to the relics. Anti Moly, the original owner of the teeth, is of course not dead, but she is still behaving very strangely. A few of her recent utterances from Twitter:

I think I must have eaten a bad spider last night. The anti-freeze hides the taste.

Will people stop wishing me good night? I find it offensive. Besides I don't sleep at night. WOEFUL.

Do please say a prayer for Anti Moly's return to sanity.

De relicks of Anti Moly

I aint blogged about my Anti Moly recently, but reggular readers will know dat she was put in a care home after she bit de postman in de leg (a misunderstandin cuased by drinkin too much hair restorrer). It's OK we now has a new postman, and so dey said dat it was time to release Anti Moly.

A team of postmen preparing to deliver a letter to Anti Moly

Anti Moly's time in de care home was a little trubbled, but we aint gonna mentoin that.

Anti Moly's care home after anuvver misunderstandin

De team at Castle Thopmson was very pleased to welcome Anti Moly back, and Will Heaven de Butler invited her to try a new cocktail he had invented, consistin of gin, Delingpol anti-freeze, fresh ferret-blood, and a slice of lemon.

Damain himself is also back home, but dey keeps him in a dark room, only lettin him out once a week to write bloggs about addictoin. We hears loud groans from his room, "Cristina, dey all hates me, you is my only friend," as Muvver Odone de cook brings him his pizza.

"Well, you may be right, Damain," replies Muvver Odone, who aint one to tell lies.

Now we aint yet got to de subject of de blogg, but de story is dat Anti Moly frew her false teef out of de window at a passing Cathlic preist. He had come to interview Damain for De Tabloid, a well-known Cathlic comic full of silly hearsays pretendin to be Cathlic doctrin.

Alas, I aint got a photo of Anti Moly's false teef, but here is an artist's impressoin.

Anti Moly's false teef (artist's impressoin)

We was horrified to see dat de preist, when he recovered consciuosness, cried out "Dis is a gift from de Lord," and took the teef away wiv him. Apparently dem Cathlics like veneratin relics, and de sacred teef of Anti Moly is even now bein taken round de country, so dat poeple can pray to dem.

Apparently, de teef is so used to sayin "Woeful," "Sockpoppet," and "Such is life eh" dat dey can now say dese spiritaul phrases even when dey aint in de mouf of my belloved Anti. Dis may be described as a miracule, and maybe my Anti will be saved after all.

Anti Moly is drownin her sorrows in de usual way, and stayin up late to insult poeple on Damain's latest blogg (which, surprisingly, is about addictoin again). We has ordered some new false teef from de Pottymouth Crocodile Centre, where she got de last ones, and dey will soon arrive in de post, if any postman is brave enuogh to delliver em.

Relliquarry containin Anti Moly's false teef, decorated wiv St George and de Dragon

De Voyage of St Eccles

1. Dere was a young man whose name was Eccles (wot meaneth "Church" or "Chappel") and he was saved. He also liked savin uvver poeple, and dey came from far and wide to read his luvvly blogg.

2. And dis Eccles was de bruvver of St Bosco, wot hath got his own book of de Bibble, so I aint sayin much about him, except dat his way of savin poeple was to get actors to dress up as preists and do nasty fings so dat he cuold put dere pitchers on his blogg.

3. Now Eccles goeth on a juorney to a far cuontry called Austriala, wot is full of boomerangs, and didgeridoos, and uvver savvage creechers. Dis was in order to look after an old lady called Judy, she dat dey calleth Moly-ben-Dite, wot was his Grate-Ant.

4. Some sayeth dat dis Judy, or Moly, hath also a grandson in Brisbane, wot was imprisoned for showin his nether regions to de Queen Eli-Zabeth when she visiteth from de North. But Moly doth deny dat it was any rellatoin, even dough dey hath very simmilar manners.

5. "Anti Moly," sayeth Eccles. "Where thou goest I is gonna go too, cos dey will lock you up if I doesnt." And dey took provisoins for de juorney, dat dey hungereth not, niether doth dey die of thirst, wot is somefink dat truobleth Moly terribly.



6. And they came upon a town called Pottymouth, which being translated meaneth "The mouth of de Rivver Potty." And dey settled in Anti Moly's luvvly home in Stickybeak Street.

7. Now Anti Moly was grately truobled by insonmia, and sleepeth not. And she crieth out in de nihgt: "Woeful! Yeah, verily, it is woeful!"

8. For she imagineth dat dere is rabits under her bed and possums jumpin up and down on de roof. But some sayeth dat it is de strong drink what is a mocker.

9. And one of de nieghbours in Stickybeak Street waxeth angry, and he sayeth unto Eccles, "We cannot abide dis Ant of yours, for she waketh us in de nihgt wiv her cries."

10. Dis maketh Moly sore wrathful too, which aint hard to do, and she grabbeth de shirt off dis nieghbours back. Den she looketh at de labbel, and sayeth, "Dat proveth it, you is a member of de Traddy Cathlic Clique wot is tormentin me."



11. And Moly she venteth her spleen by writin messages on de blogg of a man called Damain, wot was formerly a grate sage, known as de blood-crazed ferret.

12. Latterly, dis Damain aint very good at profuond spiritaul matters, as his only engagement wiv relligoin was to discuss de quallificatoins of de learned Doctor Charters, and de foolish prattle of de not quite so learned Nick Banes.

13. But Moly she continueth her vendetta against de Church, and she imagineth dat dere is sockpoppets writin, so dat she can attack dem even when dey aint dere. For it is written in de book of Joell, "Your old ladies will see visoins and dreem dreems, at least if dey dont sober up and get some propper spectacules."

14. But the time cometh when Moly sayeth unto Eccles, "Arise up, Eccles, you nubmskull. For I is called to go to Sidney to see a Holly Man, he that is called Pell. For when I was yuong, he adored me, yeah he sayeth unto me, as it is written in de Song of Sollomon:

15. Thy teeth are like a flock of sheep that are even shorn, which came up from the washing; whereof every one bear twins, and none is barren among them."

16. "Dat aint rihgt, Anti," sayeth Eccles, "cos thy teeth is in de glass of water by de side of de bed."

[Pitcher of Anti Moly's teeth removed cos it mihgt offend sensitive poeple.]

17. "Never mind dat," snappeth Anti Moly. "We is off to rejoin my beloved."

18. "Shall I saddle de ass, Anti Moly?" asketh Eccles.

19. "Nay, Eccles, thou moron," sayeth his Ant. "We is gonna take de Indian Pacific trane."



Here endeth de fust chapter of de story of Eccles's voyage to Sidney.

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Continued here.

Bosco asks to be bitten

I asked my dere bruvver Bosco wot I shuold blogg on, as fings is a little quiet rihgt now, and he said "Blog this Eccles......BITE ME" (I is copyin his words verbattim).

It is a well known fact dat Bosco is gettin more acetic these days. He made some unsucessful attempts to morttify de flesh by consultin a dame who knows about whippin (see an earlier blogg), but all he ended up wiv was a year's supply of Sister Whippy's milky puddin. We is still eatin de horrid stuff.

Now Bosco is takin dis mortifyin de flesh fing more seriuosly, and when I asked him how I cuold help my luvvin bruvver, he said "BITE ME". Well, pussonally I doesnt go ruond bitin poeple, I leaves dat to de foobtall players, so I asked Anti Moly what to do, and she said "I'll bite im, de stupid clown." I wants to save Anti Moly and I don't fink saved poeple goes aruond biting dere nehpews, so we compromissed. I borrowed her spare pear of flase teef and left dem on Bosco's chair.



Bosco sat down on de teef and arose from his chair sayin "Fank you, Eccles, I is feelin much more spirritaul now." Sometimes I does fings dat reely please him.

De next idea I had was based on a little known probblem dat Anti Moly has wiv her hare. If she doesnt wash it in a good danndruf shammpoo she comes out in snakes (de doctor said it was called de Medussa synndrome). Dis is what she looked like last time she had dis hare conddition.



So I fuoght dat Anti Moly cuold let her hare grow and de snakes cuold bite Bosco, thus puriffyin his suol. But she refussed to do it, sayin it was too much trubble.

We rejeccted de idea of askin Anti's dog Cerberrus to bite Bosco, as last time he caught a nasty illness and had to go and see 3 vets. Also his girlfiend Camila Van Pyre aint on bitin terms wiv Bosco rihgt now, since she fuond out dat he is also chasin a dame called Hilda.

De probblem was solved in an unexpected way. Bosco was out in de fields dis evenin followin labms when a wolf turned up and bit him.



As you see if you looks carefully at my pitcher, Bosco has changed his appearrance. Maybe dis is God's way of showin him dat he is trully saved. What is strange is dat Bosco keeps goin outside to howl at de moon - or maybe he is singin a hynm dat goes "YOWWWW!" I cant find dat one in de Calumny Chappel Book of Hynms for Saved Poeple, maybe it is a Bapptist hynm.

Bosco is fuond

Dere is grate cerebration in our household becuase de Prodigious Son, viz my dere bruvver Bosco, have been returned to us. He is in a somewhat dazed state, babblin incoherrently, but dat is perfickly normal for him, so we aint worried.

We has been thinkin of killin de fatted claf for Bosco. De Calumny Chappel have got one, but dey wont lend him to us. Here is a pitcher of de beest in quetsion, wot is gonna be saved.



Now I'd better explane what happenned. We got a tellephone call from de local Cathlic Churhc to say dey had kindapped Bosco to stop him savin poeple, dey will stop at nuffink dem Cathlics.

Bein Cathlics and used to methodds of torcher, dey had locked up poor Bosco in a dunngeon. He was keepin up his spirrits by singing hynms about how he was saved, washed in de blud of de Labm, and reddy to collect his golden crown at de check-in at Heaven's Gate. Indeed, he had alreddy sent a prayer to Jessus wiv detales of de mesurements of his head, it aint much fun spendin eternitty wiv a crown dat don't fit.



Well, de Cathlics wanted $10,000 ransome, or dey said dey was gonna send him back to us. "We dont want dis gibberrin idoit singin here all day long," dey said. "We got some seroius iddle-worshippin to get on wiv. Give us de duogh and we'll make sure he dissappears."

De Calumny Chappel was very keen on payin de ransome, as dey said $10,000 was a reel bargian, to be rid of Bosco for ever. But I is a luvvin bruvver and refussed to pay, so dese Cathlic feinds sent Bosco home again. I did suggest dat dey cuold take my Anti Moly in exchange, but dey didnt want her.

Still, dis gave me an idea, and so we has put an advert in de newspapper placin our Anti Moly on de markett.

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OLD LADY NOW AVIALABLE TO A GOOD HOME

WE WILL PAY $10,000 IF YOU'LL TAKE HER AWAY





VERY USEFULL IF YOU NEEDS ANY SCREEMIN DONE

COMES WITH SPARE SET OF FLASE TEETH

FOND OF CHILDDREN, BUT WILL ALSO EAT SNAKES, SCROPIONS, WELL ANYFINK REELY

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So far noboddy is very interrested.

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.

Bosco in luv

I fink it was a mistake to git an actress to go out to dinner wiv Bosco prettendin to be de leggendary Hilda. I aint yet posted her pitcher, so here she is eatin a bananana, she's a big girl, aint she? Dere's anuvver photo on Bosco's own blogg.



Bosco finks she's addorable, but I fink she would be very expenssive to feed. Anyways, whenevver anyone telephons, Bosco gits out of de box he's sleepin in, russhes to de phon, and says "You is Hilda, aint you?" So far he have said dis to:

1. Someone trying to sell dubble glazzin, who heard dat Anti Moly keeps brakin winders when Damain Thopmson's blogg gets too excitin. Dey fink we'll need reinfforced glass.
2. Fr X. O' Cise of de Cathlics, who wants to explane to Bosco about worsship. I'll say more about dat bellow.
3. Our dere Mom, wot phons up once a month to remindd us to change our socks.
4. De pollice tellin us dat dey had fuond Anti Moly's pair of flase teef wot she lost yesterdday.

None of dem was Hilda. It's traggic, innit?

Anti Moly's teef was fuond embedded in de leg of Sister Terresa of de Cathlic Order of de Little Sisters of St Septiceamia, what looks after de sick and hypocondriac. Dats irronic as Sister Terresa aint feelin too good herself now, it mihgt be tetternus.

Dis worhsip fing is a dreddful habbit dat Cathlics got. Bosco says dat when Jessus comes again in Glorry - dat's de Rapture, for which we buoght pussonalised tickets at de Calumny Chappel Chritsmas Bazarre - de Cathlics is all gonna say "Git lost, we wants your Mom." In de Bibble it aint never recordded dat Jessus kissed his Mom, so dat proves dey didnt git on too well. She didnt even give him luvvin phon calls like Mom does when she tells Bosco "Change your socks you repptile, and stop writtin dat pathettic blogg." Father X. O' Cise says dat Cathlic worhsip aint quite like that but Anti Moly backs us up, she says she got rells who was Cathlics and dey spent all dere time kissin iddles so dat proves it.

Well, dats enuogh tholeogy for now.

Bosco, I is very shokced. Your herro Richard Dakwins, who gave you dat awarrd for your luvvly blogg, have been seen wiv a statue of Juppitter dat he was clearly plannin to kiss. Have he got no shamme?