View Full Version : If you think you had problems

31st Jan 2009, 16:40
Dear Sir,
Your superheated letter arrived this morning in an open envelope with a penny stamp on it, and it would have given the boy and myself much pleasure had it not revived in us a melancholy reflection of what had gone before.
You say you thought the account could have been settled long ago and could not understand why it hadn't, well, here is the reason.
In 1954 I bought a sawmill on credit.
In 1955 I bought a team of horses, a timber wagon, two ponies, a double barrelled shotgun and two razor-backed pigs, all on credit.
In 1956 the bloody mill was burnt to the ground leaving not a darned thing. One of the ponies died and I loaned the other to a stupid bar steward who starved the poor bugger to death. Then I joined the church.
In 1957 my father died and my brother was hanged for raping a pensioner. A tramp seduced my daughter and I had to pay the barsteward 50 to stop him becoming one of my relations.
In 1958 my lad got mumps which spread to his balls and the poor boy had to be castrated to save his life. Later I went fishing and the rotten boat overturned, drowning two of my lads, neither being the one who was castrated.
In 1959 my wife ran away with a sheep shearer and left me with twins as a souvenir. Then I had to have a housekeeper so I married her to keep expenses down but I had a hell of a job to make her pregnant.
I went to the doctor and he advised me to create some excitement at the crucial moment. That night I took my shotgun to bed with me and at the time I thought was right I leaned out of bed and fired the gun through the window. The wife crapped the bed, I ruptured myself and the next morning I found I had shot my best cow.
In 1960 someone cut the nuts off my prize bull. I was down and took to drink. I didn't stop until all I had left was a pocket watch and a weak bladder. Winding the watch and running for a piss kept me busy for a time.
After a year I took heart again and bought on credit a manure spreader, a reaper, a binder and a car. The floods came and washed the whole lot away. My wife got VD from a travelling salesman and my boy died through wiping his backside on a rabbit skin that was infected. To cap it all some bar steward mated my cow with a broken down old bull.
It surprises me to think that there will be trouble if I fail to pay up. If you can think of anything I've missed, I should like to know about it. Trying to get money out of me will be like trying to poke butter up a porcupines khyber with a red hot needle. I am praying for a shower of skunk crap to pass your way and hope the centre of it is over you and the bunch of bar stewards in your office who sent me this final demand.
Yours for more credit