Aha! Just as I thought!
That Jenny Shipley woman was on the telly on Sunday morning saying that the Chinese don’t want our land. No, she said, they want our protein.
Well I’m not giving up mine without a fight.
I don’t know what sort of awful surgical instruments they’ll use on us when it comes time to start extracting the stuff. I expect it will involve some system of pipes, suction and valves, much like my computer uses. And being the devils they are they’ll probably not even give us an aspirin to ease the pain.
That’s why from today I’ve started to take action. I don’t expect to be able to stop them, because I’m getting on in years and my strength isn’t what it used to be. But if they want to suck my protein dry they’re at least going to have to work for it.
It’s lucky I have a bit of cash stored away, because the workmen I’ve hired don’t come cheap. I may as well tell you what I’ve got planned, because those Chinese buggers don’t speak the language and will never think to check their internets.
I’ve dug a series of holes around my house, lined them with loose foliage and planted razor sharp stakes at the bottom of the holes. When the bastards come knocking they’ll get quite a surprise. I know the system works, because yesterday I came home from the RSA to find the postie stuck at the bottom of a hole with one of the stakes sticking through his thigh. All in all I thought he made a bit too much of a deal about the entire episode, considering I was just doing my bit for the defence of the nation. I’ve a good mind to complain to his superior about his attitude. The way he kept barking “help me, I’m dying!” was plain rude.
I’ve not been impressed with the local postal service since that Mr Douglas took an axe to it. I tried to send a telegram to my solicitor the other day and they looked at me as if I was some kind of lunatic. The woman behind the counter said “why don’t you just send an email?”. All-right, I thought, I’ll do that. So I asked her which postbox I should put it in. She said “you send it on a computer!”. She was quite surly, let me tell you.
So I came home and took a look at the computer that grows dust at home in a corner of my spare bedroom. I’ve heard about this modern electronic communication business, so I can only guess this email carry-on must be something to do with that. Anyway, I posted my letter through the slot on my computer, even through it was a bit of a squeeze, and have been waiting for a response ever since. It’s been three weeks!
Maybe I should send a telegram asking my solicitor if he received my email.