Madeleine McCann

Eee dears I've been meaning to type all about Maddy for ages now, and I never seem to get round to it. It's funny isn't it they way time flies? Talking of which, my Cecil's been done again. The police arrested him down at the loos as he was apparently (I have to say apparently because there's a court case and I am not allowed to influence the outcome, I mean to say! In this day and age a wife can't type about her husbands alleged activities, I say alleged, because there's a court case and I am not allowed to influence the outcome. I mean to say! You might be in the jury and you might read this and think well she's a nice lady and then that's it. I've influenced the outcome.) So he was allegedly, apparently, maybe parading around the gents with his willy out, showing it to all and sundry. And I mean the toilets down by the bus stop, the ones that everyone thinks is closed, but they're not. And I say apparently, but if I know my Cecil there's no apparently about it. He's a devil for it cos he comes back and tells me about it. Nothing ever happens now that his inner behind has collapsed, but he has fun trying. And that's all it was if you ask me, a bit of fun. He keeps on muttering about the big black men in the jail and wondering how he gets into their ward or whatever its called in jail.

So Cecil keeps me busy, especially as I have to keep everyone on the street up to date with his activities, ever since I managed to get that plastic tag off his leg. I mean how it got there in the first place is a mystery, Cecil says he has no idea it was like the swans so I just got it off him and next thing I know he's down the toilets exposing himself. Allegedly. He's a good man is my Cecil, he is. He's forever trying to pleasure me in that way and what with his Parkinson's he does a first rate job. And the forgetfulness gives him staying power if you know what I mean. Mind you I tell him it must be like scraping your hand over sandpaper down there, but he says anything for you my darling, and anway love it's more like being licked with a cats tongue, and you have to get your thrills when you can at our age so we're both happy.

Now her across the road, the L-E-S-B-I-A-N, well, what a to do. It turns out she's not a L-E-S-B-I-A-N at all, she just has learning difficulties. I'm not allowed to go near her now on account of a complaint they made to social services, but I don't think that's fair. Can you tell me how to tell the difference becuase I'm buggered if I know. But she's not a L-B-N-E so that's a relief all round.

And my next door neighbour, Brigitte, the Irish one. She's dead, but someone who looks just like her and even sounds like her has moved in instead. And calls herself Brigitte as well! What a cheek! I said to her Fuck Off! (and that's swearing) Where's Brigitte gone? The real Brigitte? And she just laughed and said 'Oh Ethel what will we do with you?' and that sounds like a threat if you ask me so I'll be watching her.

Now I need to go soon because my internet is on a meter or something, but what I will say about Madeleine McCann is this...