Auntie's Return

It had to happen.

Auntie Twisted returned to see us after her sojourn in parts foreign.


I don't really know where she's been. I asked her and she said I didn't have the "Need To Know"

Now seeing that Auntie works for the government under some rather special circumstances and was dropped off at Chez TSB by some rather large blokes in a green SUV, I discovered that not only did I not have the "Need To Know", I no longer had the desire to.

Auntie's Taxi

Auntie has been to many strange and foreign places during the course of her career, met many varied and interesting people, and (reportedly) removed many of them from the face of this Earth.

You don't want to mess with Auntie, so when she said she'd be dropping round to see us and her grand-nephew for a few days, I didn't object.

Then after she'd finished over half of my whisky, she said "You still do that blog thing Bastard?" (Believe it or not, this is a term of endearment)

"Yes Auntie"

"Good, then I'll do another special Auntie Post" "Those spineless Kiwis need to get told a few home truths and I can do a problem page, just like last time"

"But Auntie" I protested, "The last time you did that we had 3 separations, 1 divorce, a visit from the Police and a mention in Bestiality Monthly"

"So?"


Here's Auntie.

---

'Morning you load of colonial tosspots, Auntie here.


I tell it as it is.

If it's not as it is, it will be.

First.


Food.

Stop buying rabbit food. We all need more rich red meat.

A meal without at least ½ kg of animal protein is just a light snack. A kg of cheese now and then may be substituted, but cut right down on the vegetables. All they do is make you fart and sh*t a lot.

Meals should be accompanied at all time by at least ½litre of strong red wine or 1 litre of good beer.

Water should not be consumed unless under the direst of conditions.

Always handy.  Also good for removing leeches.

Lying in a ditch returning fire from the Fuzzy-Wuzzies while bleeding from several bullet wounds is NOT dire enough, although in that particular case, whisky can be substituted for the wine. (I also used the smallest drop to sterilise the injuries before cauterising them with my handy portable butane torch. NOTE don't waste the whisky. If you're wondering what I was doing with a portable butane torch on my person in the middle of Fuzzy-Wuzzie land, it was to properly caramelise my Crème brûlée . High standards are always to be strived for, regardless of the conditions, and a proper crisp coating on my desert while in deep jungle is always enjoyable)


Drink.

See above.

Plus, alcohol should be consumed in moderation at all times.

Don't get drunk.

Being drunk effects your aim, and that is not a good thing.

Trust me, I can say that from bitter experience.

Another trophy

Last time I got drunk was in Vietnam, and the 3 bottles of vodka I'd just consumed, taken from the pack of the Russian полковник (Polkovnik) I'd just garrotted, effected my aim so badly that my 700 metre shot at the Chinese Commissar merely removed his balls. While in retrospect that was a good thing, I was aiming for his bloody chest, not his goolies.

Be warned.

While on the subject of drink, whisky is the thing.

Not that abomination known as Bourbon, or Rye whisky, but the real stuff, distilled from pure Scottish water, malted Barley by the heat from a peat fire. Irish whiskey can be taken at a pinch, but it's not the same as the real thing.


Politics.


Never trust a politician.

Never believe what a politician tells you.

Always count your fingers after shaking hands with a politician, and wash them immediately.

The one and only time I ever trusted a politician led me to being in Maralinga in 1963, just before the bastards dropped a 20kt nuclear device. I was not pleased. He had told me that I would be perfectly safe and that I was just supposed to find an incriminating letter being used for some sort of blackmail for "his cousin's deviant behaviour"


He paid the price.

It took me 4 years, but I got him. And everyone thinks that Harold Holt drowned by "accident"
Ha.
So believe me, Auntie knows best.


Marriage.

Never felt the need of it, truth be told. Always plenty of nice young blokes about if I need my ashes hauled. I've never been turned down yet.

My favourite

I find that a Fairbairn dagger held diagonally across the jugular helps win any romantic request, and I've always got my old friend Rohypnol if all else fails, but I don't like to use it.

I'm a silly old romantic really.

Now you lot, if you have any questions or comments about anything that you think that Auntie can help with, just drop a comment on m'nephew's blog, and Auntie will do her best to offer sage advice, strong direction, or in the last case, one of my friendly 7.62mm messengers of death.


Have a nice day and don't do anything I wouldn't do, because I've already done it.

Please note YONKS.

Not one picture of a bare breasted beauty.

Just for you.