Arking Up the Wrong Tree

BY Ray Edgar

Okay then son. So ya short a sausage. And ya wanna make a coupla quid. Wanna buy wunna dem bloody fings wiff the dangly bloody bits blastin your farkin ten speeds. Here’s a lark. Go darn the Fed Square and take a butchers at that ouse paynuh. Stuff looks a bit like Escher. Bit like woz iz face… da jam roll who half inched the comic books. Roy farkin someone er ruther – Dun look so surprised. I bin known to frequen the odd art g-a-l-l-e-r-y darn so-o yea-aah! Don’t get lemon wiv wiff me son. Anyways, you go darn there and ya ask the alphonse for one of dem audio tours. This is ya cover ya see, ya make like ya listenin in to dem septic tankers bangin on about his nibs declarin who new im best and wot a diamond geezer e woz and all that bollocks and then ya real casual like make like ya con’emplatin the bloody buildins outside. Research ya might say. Furrow a brow or summin. Scratch ya biscuit. Wear a skivvy. Na na too bleedin obvious. You look like a bloody artiste anyways wiff orl that shite in ya gob. Ya got nuff goin on to keep the villins at bay. So like I always says, just ack natural. And when ya feel like your on ya toblerone ya do a bunk. Yeh yeh I know what you’re finkin, talk is cheap. And I’m telling ya, no cheapa than the advice I’m now regalin ya wiff, or the accent I’m holdin between these ere slim pages. but gods onest, swear on me granmuvva, talk may be cheap but so are farkin ipods. Five farkin quid is all it’ll cost ya china. And then ya go back and gemme some more. Art for alf’s sake. Now mind ow you go.