Saturday, May 1, 2010 by Amelia Spleenwort.

Now, then. You ain’t seen nothin’ till you’s seen Councillor Crispian Tarquin Buttock-Bottomley runnin’ around Nigel Prawn’s goat field with a parsnip up his arse.

And, no, I ain’t seen that either. But it probably got you readin’ this ’ere thing they calls a bog. [Blog, Amelia, it’s called a blog. – Ed.]

Well, whatever.

Anyhow, like, they’s lots o’ people walkin’ around these parts – an’ I’m talkin’ of our wonderful Little Bibbling under Flossock here – who’s just not what you’d call acceptable folks, like. The sort of folks you just doesn’t want pettin’ your goat or goin’ near your azaleas with their thingummy hangin’ out, like.

I means, don’t get me wrong, like, I ain’t got nothin’ against ’em, but I don’t like ’em and I don’t think they should be allowed to, well, to be, if you sees what I means.

Now, if you listens to this month’s Underground Ablution [Edition, Amelia. – Ed.]

Now don’t you go startin’ that again, Ed whatever your name is.

Edition, then, if you prefers.

As I was sayin’, like, if you listens to this month’s whatever its f[deleted]ing name is—

Now just you stop this f[deleted]ing censorship, Mr bloody Ed, afore I comes over there to the Celticle Wireless Corporation and gives you what for.

Right, Underground Whatnot with Bill Everard. If you listens to it, you’ll ’ere this month’s episode of The Chronicles of Little Bibbling under Flossock by that nice Mr Ambrose Jones. [It’s Bill Everatt, Amelia, and Andrew John. – Ed.]

Whatever!!!!!

Well, you’ll ’ere an interestin’ little account of abominations. That’s what they is, abominations. Filthy, perverted, atrocious, disgustin’, evil, filthy, foul, gross, hideous, horrible, impure, lascivious, lewd, scurrilous, shameless, shockin’, sickening, smutty, suggestive, improper, unchaste, unclean, unwholesome, licentious, loathsome, lustful, nasty, coarse, crude, dirty, outrageous, pornographic, profane, prurient, wanton, repellent, repugnant, salacious, scabrous, vile, and wicked, that’s what they is. [My, my, Amelia, have you swallowed a thesaurus? – Ed.]

I thought that was some sort o’ prehistoric monster.

Anyways, like, as I was sayin’, like, abominations, that’s what they is. This month’s Chronicles of Little Bibbling under Flossock, what starts round twenty or so minutes into Mr Bill Ever Ready’s Underground Ablution, give or take, talks about vile abominations.

So enjoy it. I did. Heh, heh, heh.

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Monday, April 5, 2010 by Amelia Spleenwort.

Them folk at the Celticle Wireless Corporation ’as asked me again to write some words for this ’ere blog thing after my successful little piece of nonsense last month, so ’ere I am.

They’s got this programme called The Underground Ablution, see, and— [Underground Edition, Amelia. – Ed.]

There’s that bloody Ed again, pokin’ ’is nose in. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, that Underground whatever they calls it, with Bill Everard or whatever ’is name is— [Everatt, Amelia. – Ed.]

Will you kindly stop interruptin’ me, boy! It’s gettin’ on me nerves.

Anyway, like, there’s this little slot introduced by that nice Mr Ambrose Johns and— [Andrew John, Amelia. – Ed.] Whatever! An’ he reports from that nice little ’amlet called Little Bibbling under Flossock, what you can make out from the other side of the M39, if you’s sittin’ down. That’s where I lives – at number 42 Cobblers’ Cottages.

Now it can’t have escaped your notice, unless you’re a blithering idiot – and there’s a lot of them hereabouts – that there’s a new Doctor on your telly. I don’t know nothin’ about it meself, like, ’cos we only gets telly in the Ancient Bibblin’ language, see. But I hear tell it’s good.

Well, when this month’s Bibblin’ report first went out in 2008 – that’s in your calendar, o’ course, not the Bibblin’ calendar, which is altogether more logical with twenty-six and a half days per month, regular, like, none o’ this messin’ around with thirty-one days ’ere and thirty days there . . . But I’s forgotten where I was.

Oh, yes. This month’s report features an idiot Celticle Wireless Corporation reporter called Elvis Twinge, what went to our neighbouring village of Much Fondling on the Grope to report on the appointment of a new Doctor on account of ’ow the old one ’ad just resigned, like. Seems like only yesterday, dunnit?

An’ by the end of it I don’t think that nice Andrea Jones was very pleased. But you’ll ’ave to tune in – well, I thinks they calls it downloadin’ or sommat fancy – an’ listen.

You might as well listen to the whole programme while yer at it, an’ all. All a bit too jivey and loud for the likes of me, what is ninety-three, but there you goes. They didn’t feature me in this one, but that’s their loss! But I’ll be in some of ’em before the year’s out.

Oh, they ’as this thing called Easter hereabouts, and the folk at Celticle Wireless Corporation gave me a sort of brown egg. Bloody useless. Collapsed and went all melty as soon as I dropped it into a pan o’ boilin’ water, it did.

That’s modern stuff for yer!

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Thursday, March 11, 2010 by Amelia Spleenwort.

They’s asked me to write stuff on this ’ere thing they calls a blog, and I can tell you: I isn’t too happy about it.

But if it gets you to listen to the latest episode of The Chronicles of Little Bibbling under Flossock on Bill whatsisname’s programme, The Underground Ablution, then I’s happy, like. [Bill Everatt, Amelia; and it’s The Underground Edition. – Ed.]

Oi, what’s happenin’? Who’s this Ed? I doesn’t know any bugger called Ed.  [It means “Editor”, Amelia. – Ed.]

Anyways, the Little Bibblin’ stuff comes in around twenty minutes or so into the programme, so now you knows. No need to listen to the rest of the programme – it’s shit. [We strongly recommend listeners to listen to the whole programme, because it’s brilliant. – Ed.]

We introduced my charmin’ part of the world, Little Bibbling under Flossock, in the February Ablution. [Edition, Amelia. Ed.] And it showed how that nice fella Andrew John actually got there. Well, I says nice. He’s a bit funny if you asks me – in the ’ead, like, if you sees what I means. [No libel allowed, Amelia. Careful. – Ed.]

You can just see Little Bibblin’ at the other side of the M39 – of you’re sittin’ down, like. Well, from where I am – right in Little Bibblin’ – it’s this side of the M39, o’ course. But then it would be, wouldn’t it?

Anyways, in the March Ablution you can hear some more. In this one, that nice (but creepy) Mr John introduces some of the characters from our charmin’ little hamlet thing.

They’s the mayor, Councillor Beauregard Soup, for instance. And they’s a big fat bugger of a councillor called Crispian Tarquin Buttock-Bottomley. They has to repair the road when he walks past. Then there’s the mayor’s daughter, who’s also his mayoral consort, Lucy Soup the Third (she’s the third on account of how she ’as two older sisters, both called Lucy). F[deleted] weird if you asks me. [Language, Amelia, language. Ed.]

So, anyways, like, off you goes and listens to that Underground whatever it is, and you’ll learn all about Little Bibblin’ under Flossock.

’Ere, was that all right, then? [Fine, Amelia. Brilliant. – Ed.]

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