Wednesday 13 July 2011

Dear Grint

Season's grintings, good sir!


- Yes; yes, it fucking is, but we've already covered that, so let's move on to the matter at hand.

I trust that having now grown up and left your grinty past firmly behind, you'll be looking to venture out into the big, wide world. To get you started, I've come up with a few suggestions for grintworthy business ventures, should you be in need of some grintspiration:

- How the Grint Stole Christmas: a popular children's book about a grinning carrot-top who royally fucks the holidays for everyone.

- After-Dinner Grints: tasty, bite-sized grint-flavoured treats to cleanse the palate at Rowling's next dinner party.

And, my particular favourite...

- 'Grindt' : a fancy Swiss chocolate bar, made from your hair.

Best of luck with all your future grinting.

Grinty regards,
Davis.

PS - Grint.

PPS - Grinty grint grint.

Dear Rail Companies, Minister for Transport

A parable.

"People all over the world", The O'Jays once sang; "Join hands. Start a love train. A love train."


And so it came to pass. Unfortunately, the network's inevitable privatisation ultimately meant that prices ended up being jacked sky-high to accommodate the bosses' exorbitant salaries, all the while forcing a downward knock-on effect on service quality. The love train now runs just one service a day, and is 40 minutes late, if indeed it bothers to turn up at all.

Wistful regards,
Davis.