Dear friends, relatives and frelatives

Dear friends, relatives and frelatives

At this time of celebration Tina, Harry and I would like to share with you the ups and downs what has been a turbulent year.

I am glad to say, after her third stint in rehab Tina has finally conquered her addiction to conkers, this has made her a much happier person, my sunny disposition of course is still mostly reliant on the liberal use of alcohol, antidepressants and class A drugs. 

Harry is finally coming out of his shell. He has joined the local track and field club, excelling in the 100m sprint which he completes in just under 11 days. It’s very disappointing.

Tina is insistent that I take up vegetarianism for health reasons, my response being that I intend on dying covered in the blood of my enemies, surrounded by their marinating carcasses.

By enemies I mean cows, pigs, chickens and all of whom have made the fatal error of being born delicious and slow witted.  

In April we endeavoured to create the country’s very first urban fox hunting club on our estate. Instead of horses and beagles we were to use bicycles and local dogs; 6 staffordshire terriers, 2 jack russells and a large cat named Spot.

Our efforts came to an abrupt halt when the authorities turned up. We explained that we had no intention of killing any foxes we merely wanted to round them up and educate them in proper bin raiding etiquette and such. 

They pointed out that several of our bikes were stolen from the local elementary school and that Spot was actually a small child in a particularly convincing onesy.

Apart from occasionally frightening the locals at Waitrose, by dressing up in a hoodie and asking where the discount beer at, I believe we have finally been accepted into the lower middle class society that is Wanstead.

Merry Christmas everybody and happy New Year.

Kindly yours,

Troy, Harry and Tina