Letters To The Editor. Part 2.

After the success of last months 'Letters To The Editor' feature and coz I couldn't be arsed to write anything cohesive I thought I'd roll it out again for another outing, so here it is back by (un)popular demand.

Letters To The Editor. Part 2.
Dear Mark,
I'm a professional footballer, right. I earn approximately £1.5 million quid a year and in return for that I have a duty to maintain my body at the peak of fitness every day of my working life. I train for a minimum of 6 hours a morning, swim for a further two and work out in the gym every other evening. I don't smoke or drink and I steer well clear of fatty foods such as pork and bacon. I have my heart rate and blood pressure carefully monitored by a team of experts twice a week. My personal trainer maintains that I am the healthiest human specimen he's ever had the privilege to work with. I have a beautiful wife, Linda and two wonderful children, Simon who's six and little Farrah who's nearly three. I drive a Mercedes and live in a large house on the Surry borders. I'll probably pack it in at 33, by which time I'll be a multi millionaire.
Makes you sick dunnit!!
Keith Twattist, Smug, Surry.

Dear Mark,
What's all this I hear about some bloke earning a fortune claiming to have invented the cat's eye. Bloody cheek! That was one of mine. Do you think I'd go to the trouble of doing a cat and then not give the fucking thing a set of eyes? Cats, dogs, trees, whelks, sheep, gravel, all manner of flora and fauna - they were all my idea. Sort yourselves out before I send you a hefty invoice for the lot. Now go in peace or I'll invent a 700 ton hedgehog. And don't think I wouldn't. I've had it up to here with you lot. Alright! That is my word etc, etc. Cheers!
God, Heaven.

Hew, yee!
My doctor tells me I don't know my arse from my elbow. 'Course I don't man,' I said, 'that's your job'. I don't expect you to know how to fix a telly, do I? Just as well he said, cos mine bust. Cheeky bastard. Anyway, turned out the tube had gone so i flogged him a new one for a pony. Good job someone knows what they're doing, eh?
Lou Ferringo, Heaton.

Dear Mark,
I'm a big bloke, 17 and a half stone. I like my grub and I'm not adverse to the odd pint or 14 from time to time. I've always been on the large side since I was a youth. I'm 25 on Thursday and I think it's about time for a total lifestyle rethink. I looked at myself in the mirror the other day and it suddenly dawned on me that I'm not operating at my full potential. Simply put, I feel there's a thin person inside me trying to get out. Blimey! I thought to myself, I don't remember eating that! Anyway, tell me, how can I get rid of the bastard for a couple of hours while I nip down the cafe for a plate of chips and a cuppa with 7 sugars? Oh and get ya skates on fam. I'm bloody famished! Nice one.
Fat John. Cheddar Gorge. South Devon.

Till next time.
Big love. Mark. X