Bafoonio, where are your golden balls?

Dear Mr Capello,

You are an ignorant ugly italian baffoonio. How dare you leave out our national jewels from the England Football Squad. David Beckham and his delicious golden balls are the pride of the nation and having his balls on display in an England shirt is the greatest sight for all hot blooded Englishmen and to a far lesser extent, English women.

I don't care if your Italian. I don't care if your English is so inadequate you don't understand a word I am writing. And so bloody what if you have won the Italian league, Spanish league and the so called Mickey Mouse European cup. So bloody what if Italy are the current world champions, you will never be an England manager.

I hope our dear David Beckham achieves his 100th cap, oh how I long to see him in his shorts, those muscular legs, that tight chest and his various glorious hairstyles. Oh how I wish to see him run around for me and my countrymen all day long, with or without a kit on.

I support you David, I always have, I have bought all your products and all the merchandise you advertise. I will continue to do so as long as your juicy balls remain english and golden.

As for you Mr Capello, go get your Versace handbag and piss off.

Ariverderci,
Fuming Prof Scrub.

Ryanair school girls

Dear Ryanair,

May I commend you on your excellent advertisement displaying a semi-naked schoolgirl. May I also praise you on your absolute determination in refusing to withdraw the image despite those absolutely unnecessary complaints.

The photograph is very well taken, and is a very artistic image of a model dressed up as an alluring, innocent schoolgirl. I have enjoyed the image so much I have now posted it on my bedroom wall and it goes very well with my other collection of older females dressed up as schoolgirls. It certainly makes my male fantasy the even more real and I thank you for this. You have certainly made the schoolgirl uniform so much more erotic and this can only be a positive step.

I definitely now consider Ryanair as my number one airline. I am rather hoping ofcourse you change the uniform of your stewardesses to the same revealing and modern school uniform.

Prof Scrub

A Prayer to the Great Satellite in the sky

Dear falling Space Satellite,

When you finally crash into the planet, please be kind enough to land on my neighbour's dog. The rascal has chewed on my last pair of see-through panties.

Yours panty-less,
Commando Prof Scrub

Vending Pot!

Dear Brierly Country and Golf Club,

I would like to petition for a new addition to the current refectory at your wonderful Country Club. Firstly, let me for the record state that your establishment is excellent and has the best facilities in the land by a country mile, excuse the intended pun. I feel privileged to be a member of such an exclusive club and certainly enjoy the delights of ladies tennis night and the under 16 boys swimming gala.

I would like to make a most notable suggestion to improve your present dining facilities. Having recently returned from a trip to our beloved friends in the United States of America, I have recently discovered a new form of obtaining marijuana. One simply enters the set fee into a standard vending machine and out comes the required ounces of pot, ready and rolled. I believe this idea is very advanced and forward thinking. As your establishment is the leading country club in the United Kingdom, I would perhaps suggest the club obtain this vending machine as an added facility for its private members.

This easy to use and easy access machine would certainly help the likes of myself and other upstanding members of the community obtaining weed - far better then having to obtain it from those rastafarians, ragamuffins and hoodlums outside the Royal Ends Pub on a Saturday Night. Far less bothersome indeed. Being rich and upper class, we should be able to smoke a fat one without getting our hands dirty. Jeeves!

I hope you take this into consideration at your next AGM.

Yours Sincerely,
Prof Scrub

McDegree

Dear McDonalds,

I am quite thrilled to hear of your new educational programme for your staff, allowing these bright young and talented individuals to obtain nationally recognised qualifications.

As a frequent diner in your fine establishment, I shall now look forward to my orders being taken immaculately, my burgers being flipped expertly, my fries being perfectly crispy and my milkshakes refreshingly tasty.

With all your staff having such new qualifications, I have no doubt I will enjoy my McDonalds experience a great deal more.

As always, I'm lovin it
Prof Scrub.

Quantum of Prof Scrub

Dear Bond, James Bond,

You may have the looks. You may have the car. You may have the gadgets. You may have the girls. You may have the excitement. You may have the passion. But let me tell you Bond, it doesnt last forever.

Back in the 1940's, I too had it all. I had secret missions - defusing bombs, rescuing hostages, assassinations, kidnapping goats, spying on naked girls, etc. I had false identities - Boris the Three wheeled cab driver, Maurice the sheep herder, Bruce the rastafarian, Tik Tak the chinese assassin. I had the girls, the scores of russian and chinese hookers and multiple unprotected orgies.

But alas James, such things eventually come to an end. I am warning you now, you may think it lasts forever - it doesnt. You will soon grow old and all you will look forward to is spending the entire evening looking for your favourite slippers. Now where did I put them again?


The names Scrub, Prof Scrub.

The Norovirus strikes!

Dear 3 million UK victims of the norovirus,

Let me offer my deepest sympathies for all those affected by this dreaded, vile and ghastly bug. I know the pain you are enduring. I too, my dear infected friends, have been struck down by this evil creature. It is a punishing, spirit destroying and asshole ripping ordeal. The vomitting! The diarrhoea! The pungent odour that fills my infected nostrils! I am no longer able to wear my favourite Y-Fronts with an image of Her Majesty the Queen on the backside for fear of leaving a brown streak across her beautiful royal cheek.

I do so hope this turmoil will end so I can lead a normal and sexually promiscuous life again rather then chained to the ceramic seat of my unforgiving toilet. In fact, I write this very letter as I sit on the throne, defaecating painfully a river of muddy, watery, norovirus infested faeces.

Yours, unhappily sitting on the bog,
Prof Scrub.

National Screening Of Politicians

Dear Gordie,

I am very pleased to hear your announcement of increased funding for screening programmes in our great National Health Service. Screening for such important diseases as cancer, heart disease and aneurysms is a wonderful service and saves countless lives. Your ideology of "prevention rather than cure" is noble and with your new initiative, perhaps the health of our nation will improve yet further.

I would also like to initiate a new screening programme - one that will further improve our great nation and restore it to its former glory. This screening programme will save hundreds and thousands of lives, alleviate innocent suffering and promote the health of the nation as well as the world. It aims to prevent unacceptable and untrustworthy politicans getting into positions of authority and ruining the nation. I call it a National Screening Of Politicians. Here are the screening criteria I propose:

NO LIARS

NO SLEAZEBALLS

NO CLOWNS

NO OFFSPRING OF THE DEVIL

NO TERRORISTS

NO PATRONISING PRICKS

NO RELATIONSHIP WITH THE CHEEKY GIRLS

ABSOLUTELY NO SCOTSMEN

Mr Brown, I think you will find if you employ this new screening programme, many many lives will be bettered. If we can "prevent" these ridiculous characters from entering into the public domain in the first place, we will not have to clear and "cure" the disasters they create. These valuable criteria should be screened before they are even considered for office. I urge you to start screening as soon as possible,

Your public health servant,
Prof Scrub