Rose Croft, Brentwood - 15th Feb. 1973

Dear Miss Pickle, The cat is noisily sucking the mud from between her toes at the moment and making it very difficult for me to write. But I'll battle on somehow! I think I shall write with a pencils , these horrible sticks have a mind of their own. Ah! that's better. This cat's a ventriloquist I'm sure - I keep hearing squeaks and "Bronx cheers" coming from under the bed and when I look the cat is on the other side of the room pretending she's never uttered a sound, It's about time she had her kittens too, it's not decent walking around looking like that! This morning she hypnotised me and made me go to the shop and buy her a tin of "Choosy". When I came round I found myself emptying the fishy contents into the gob of the mischievoius feline. 'Tis strange , ah! Jim lad ooer! I took some of my art into a new crafty shop in Brentood to see if they'd buy anything off me. They didn't have any money either but they'd "chance" a painting in the dimly lit corner behind a knotted string sculpture and see what happens. They seem nice enough people but what atrocious taste they have - all these pots and brass rubbings on chromium plate etc. Eugh! Think I will make myself a toasted potato peeling now. SUNDAY. Thanks for the letter and silly photo of Salvador Dali - those caps will come in handy? I expect. I've just arrived back from Basildump, from my fortnightly "Hello, what' on telly?" Unfortunately they have no vacancies at the rotten B.M. so I've written to the V&A and the Tate. But I expect they've none too. Looks like it's the concrete gang for me! Here's a good joke. I'm going to toast a slice of bread already buttered. Ha ! ha! ha! That's a goodun'! The S.S. person is coming tomorrow to interrogate me ( the 1st degree ) Hopefully I should get some more money out of them for a couple of weeks at least if I can prove to them I haven't any ( which shouldn't be too hard ) ! I'll dress in sackcloth and ashes especially and suck on a dry crust all the time. (Photo of film stars frolicking by a swimming pool ) Take a look at the upper colour pic and then with your brains? answer the following questions. 3. What did he see in the water? 4. What did he make his mind up to do? 5. What became of the real piece of meat? 6. What sort of Doll was Matilda? 13. What is he doing with his left hand? 14. What sort of hat has he? I like the pictures of goats on the front your letter - they are such intelligent animals! BaaaH! Ed keeps hiding my bicycles so I can't go anywhere , the creep! I'll knobble his tomato plants and get my own back! The radishes look like giant beetroots now, ready to pull their roots up and menace the neighbourhood! Chomp ! Chomp! burping as they go, on a wild rampage , trampling bungalows in their wake. Incredible weeds and nettles growing too, choking the nastutiums and poor sweet peas with an iron like grip.Is there nothing that can save us? No hormone weed killer? Aargh! Zap! Puff! Zonk! Piffle! I think i will look for some socks to put on. I'm tired of being bohemian with just these sandals. My tootsies are cold! Enclosed is the blue tits nesting box. Mummy tit or maybe Daddy tit? is about the bung a grub in the gobs of the baby tits. Isn't that sweet. Well, i can't fink of nuffink else to say, or write, or ponder upon so i will take my leave. tally ho! Toodle pip! Yoiks! Perhaps give you a tinkle on the old tinkler on aturday when I shall be at Daddies house. Bon voyage. Merci buckets. Fungia Wimple. Yours, REv. Charlie Codpiece and Chips. O.K.