Couldn’t farnd any lions in Zion to be iron lark, which was the only reason he went after all, bein’ a big fan and havin’ deadlocks ‘n thet.
Ah suggested thet he go copy them cows in tahn instead but as he rartly pointed aht, ‘Ah’m gonna be bronze lark them cahs in West Centre’ doesn’t really hev the same sense of religious ferment.
Instead he settled fer half an hour curled up in a ball in imitation of one of mah old boule sets.
Nah forgive me if ah’m much mistaken but whoever desarded thet Zion was in the middle of St John must hev hed one too many Bredas.
Kwart how the Holy Land can be equated with a church, a pub and a couple of shops is beyond me altogether.
They do hev thet ruddy great rock there which is supposed to be the centre of the arland, but ever since me and Mickie Le Cocq crept up there with a bulldozer a few years beck and gev it an almarty shove we know thet just ain’t the case.
Maybe the Johnians are just so embarrassed abaht how borin’ their parish is they desarded to spruce it up bah claimin’ all manner of nonsense.
Heng on. Just had the warf in me ear. Apparently Zion is spelt with an S. Not much ruddy use to me now thet ah’ve gone and written this last entry for yers now, is it?
Where else am ah gonna farn somethin’ on the rock beginning with a Z to wrart abaht?
Tell ya what, this’ll be ar little secret. Zion with a Z from nah on, you got it?
Excellent.
Tek it easy, sheg.
