Mood:  not sure

Just a quickie today as I'm off to Fairoaks to pick up someone and I suspect it's going to take a while.

Didn't go down the pub in the end, decided to use the local corner store instead where Mr Patel will sell you anything you want for a price. I am a regular in there, so he always has some Pepsi Max and Milk Tray on ice for me, and even better he always puts aside the copy of the West Bank Times so I get to read it before anyone else. He hasn't said it, but I bet if I asked for a couple of Uzi clips he'd get them out from under the counter. Mind you he is a thieving bastard when it comes to the price for a packet of fags, are they really 10 quid a packet now? Just shows you how lucky I've been with all the duty frees I've been getting.

I will answer a query from someone who is obviously an avid reader of this crap. I was asked if I really picked up a Mossad application form in Woolworth's, and if so, how come they don't do them now. Well I'm not going to give away too many secrets, but you need to head into the 'pick n mix' section and ask for Moshe...although whether he still works there now or not I don't know...he was an old c*nt back then so he's probably a stiff by now...but even if he's not, I'm sure it'll be worth it watching the 16 year old school leaver who got nine GCSE's at grade A dig around the toffees...she'll probably think they're like Werther originals or something...the choice of every self respecting kiddie fiddler going...and talking of that I'd better hit the road.

Shalom

Mood:  loud

Not long after I finished tapping away yesterday I heard that the Glitterman was on his way to Hong Kong. Cool I thought, f*cking good duty free shopping there, I wonder if he'll pick up 200 Benson for me. Well no chance of that, as the dozy kiddie fiddling c*nt didn't even make it to the duty free shop...twonk. So looks like I'll have to sneak off down the pub in the minute to see if anyone has done a booze cruise lately. I hate going down the f*cking pub, unlike the days when I went out with The Krays and the Richardsons, I can't really handle my booze anymore, one Shandy and I'm all over the f*cking place. It's times like that I'm glad I have the mysterious ID card with the Star of David on it.

Some of you have pointed out that some of the links don't work on the page. Well if that w*nker Benny hadn't got caught Sausage worrying in Germany, I'd get it sorted. As it is, you'll just have to put up with them for a while longer, I'm too busy saving the world and breaking into women's bedrooms with boxes of chocolates to give a shit about some linking bullshit!

OK, I'm out of here. I won't tell you which pub I'm going to, sort of give away where the Safe House is, and don't think because there's a VW Beetle in the car park that's where I'm at...I might use my undercover car.

Shalom

Mood:  not sure

So what do you lot think of this Gary Glitter malarky then? I was on standby to go out there and bring the kiddie fiddler c*nt back, but El Al don't fly from Fairoaks to Bangkok and no way are Mossad stumping up for British Airways. There is also a conflict of interest as well, because back in the 70's me and Gazza were drinking buddies. I've never told anybody before, but I was actually in the Glitter Band. Think back to Top Of The Pops in the 70's...see the geezer in the back with the Star Shaped guitar...well I'm just behind him to the left. Thinking about it now, I think the paedo bastard was just using me to get his pictures developed with no problems. Mossad have a no questions asked policy, so probably thought we were getting the photos done to stitch up some Arab politician or something, although with those greasy bastards pictures of Donkeys would be more useful. Anyway, he sort of lost interest when we outsourced that stuff to Truprint, and even declined my computer expertise when his laptop went on the blink...I bet the c*nt wishes he'd taken me up on this offer now eh...teach him to use PC World!

Of course another trip would have been useful as I've been pretty busy behind the bins and need some more fags. The Olympics have a couple more days to run...wonder if they've had the Bagel tossing yet...better call Tel Aviv and find out.

 Shalom

Mood:  irritated

F*cking 'ell, got a call on the Tel Aviv hotline, Mossad needed someone in Georgia pronto, they are a bit concerned about there top secret stick on beard shop being taken out. So I ring up the Mossad travel agent in Tottenham, and he gets me on the first flight to Georgia. All I can say is C*NT! I thought something looked a bit odd when I landed, all those planes with Delta written on the side. It was only when I got out of the airport I realised that the dozy Twonk had sent me to Georgia alright, but the f*cking one in the USA...now I know Atlanta is a bit rough, but it's not that rough...well as far as I know they don't have any ruskie tanks driving around the streets.

Anyway managed to evade all the CIA geezers knocking around the place and got myself on the same plane back to Fairoaks. I suppose the good thing is that I clocked up a few airmiles, and got some duty free in...I'll be a popular bloke round by the bins for the next few days I can tell you although I think they're only in it to ponce fags off me, and I had enough of that when I was working for the Underground railway somewhere in London.

OK, short and sweet today, I've got to ring Ali the travel agent and call him a c*nt...no f*cking idea of world geography these blokes, but he's cheap so I guess that's why Mossad use him.

Shalom

Mood:  lazy

Now I'm finally back in the real world, I have the chance to catch up with some of the crap you reprobates have been e-mailing me. Now believe it or not, among the Nigerians, Russians, and Penguins from Antartica who have all been trying to catch me out with their very kind offers to make me a millionaire, there is the odd little gem which makes me go into my bombproof office here in The Safe House, and dig out a file from my safe which is of course standard Mossad issue and is shaped like a big carton of Bensons. One such question came from someone asking about Jill Dando.

I remember this case perfectly. At the time I was working undercover on an Underground Railway somewhere in London. I happened to be on rest days that week, and I guess it was natural for the Law to think it was a professional job, so they did come knocking on my door...working undercover means you try and fit in with everyone else...I even stopped wearing black for a while. Anyway I refused to talk to anyone but MI 6, and I was forced to show the mysterious ID card with the Star of David on it to some wet behind the ears copper. Shit scared he was when he realised who he was talking to, but I put him at ease with my tales of drinking with The Krays and Frankie Fraser down the Blue Oyster in Ramsgate. To cut a long story short, I persuaded them to focus on the local oddball and pervert, but in the end they went after some geezer called Barry George, bet they wished they'd listened to me eh. Who did kill Jill Dando? I haven't a f*cking clue, I had to go back on nights and sort of lost track of events but it was good to see it all come back in the news recently...I haven't watched Crimewatch since though.

 Shalom

Mood:  don't ask

A few of you herberts asked me why I'm not in the Olympics this year, well I thought I'd made that clear to you c*nts yesterday...I have to let other people have a chance at gold. Anyone who is as deadly as me with a gun, or a bike, shouldn't be allowed to compete. As for that Michael Phelps character...even with my habit of 50 Bensons a day I'd still beat him easily...although I do have the distinct advantage of being able to walk on water. I must admit though I am impressed with his achievement, those f*cking ears of his must really screw up his aerodynamics. In seriousness though I probably won't compete until Trolley pushing is an olympic sport, I'm already in training for that.

As I'm hooked on the Olympics it was an early trip down the Bagel Bake this morning...I'm beginning to feel a bit out of place down the Bethnal Green Road these days, lucky I have the ability to communicate fluently in 250 different languages...Mossad really prepare you for the real world. Still I'm looking forward to the 24th century, if Star Trek is to believed, everyone speaks English, although it will put a few language teaching c*nts on the dole...tough shit...that's progress.

Someone else was kind enough to suggest that maybe I should write in to one of those home makeover shows for the Safe House. I'm not sure that's a good idea. First off everyone will know where I live, which defeats the purpose of a Safe House in the first place, and second I'm having no dizzy tart telling me where to shove my floral curtains. I'm happy where they are thanks, plus they hide my Uzi collection.

 Shalom

Mood:  not sure

I know, I know, I don't need you c*nts to tell me. I've been a bit lacking in the updates for a while. My so called mate Benny was meant to do it for me, but the dozy bastard finally got caught doing obscene things with a Bratwurst on a trip to Nurnberg. The Krauts have locked him up for a while and I'm not going to get him out, I've got better things to do.

You may have noticed that I'm not in the Israeli/Swiss/GB team for the Olympics. I guess I thought it was about time I let some other c*nt win a few medals, there are only so many Platinum medals you can win, I didn't even take part in the Tour De France, I'm getting a bit pissed off wearing yellow all the time. Instead I've spent the summer honing my trolley pushing skills and doing some part time work as Gordon Brown's PR man, and you can see how successful I've been at that...I'm really in demand on that front, Mugabe and the Chinks are also interested.

The new safe house is coming along nicely although B&Q and Homebase didn't come through with some of the stuff I asked for...I mean what sort of shitty organisation doesn't let you buy razor wire and landmines online. Still being an international man of mystery means I've got a few contacts in the industry if you know what I mean, so woe betide any c*nting burgalar who tries to step on my newly laid lawn...I just hope that if it ever happens though that the wanker is an Arab.

Anyway it's the start of the Football season today so I'm off to watch Fulham/Chelsea/Leyton Orient start their Premier League campaigns, then I'll be of to do some boat watching on the Thames. A Spanish mate of mine reckons that the Chinese Aircraft Carrier - the Mao Tse Tung - is going to be sailing down the Thames and they've got to raise London Bridge to let it park outside Parliament...this is classified info by the way, so keep it to yourselves.

 Shalom

Mood:  mischievious

Well my updates are few and far between at the moment, NHS cutbacks are limiting me, we only have a couple of Internet capable PC's in the place now. They discovered that the staff had been searching for Porn, people with large ears, and some c*nt had been trying log into the network of an elite Israeli security agency...wonder who that was?

Anyway, the Tel Aviv hotline rang during the week, and they wanted me to head out to Washington to do a bit of pre-security for the Pope. Now you lot might think this bloke is a Catholic, but have you seen that skull cap he wears? Definitely means he's Jewish in my opinion, that's why Mossad do a bit of undercover security for him. I must admit I was surprised, I didn't know the Pope was up in Geordieland, but when my plane tickets arrived I realised it wasn't the Washington up north, but some place in America. Glad the bastards put me on El Al too, didn't fancy British Airways, they might have lost my Uzi.

So here I am, sitting in some hotel in Washington called The Salvation Army. Don't think much of the other guests to be honest, not sure they're all kosher, but there's an office building across the road that has a wi-fi connection I can tap into, I guess that's why Mossad picked it, free Internet access. I'm going to hit the town later on, won't need to worry about eating though, this place lays on an edilble meal three times a day, and it's all included. I need to do check out all the routes the Pope is going to use...more later.

Shalom

Mood:  not sure

Apologies for going missing for so long. Benny couldn't tell you where I was because I was on an extremely sensitive mission, that required not only tact and diplomacy, for which I am world famous, but also required the use of all the blades on my Israeli Army knife...yep I've been helping out counting the votes in Zimbabwe. I did think about running there myself, would have been easy to slip myself onto the ballot paper and grab a couple of million votes, but I don't like the f*cking weather there, it's too hot, plus you can't grab a decent Bagel. Also walking round the streets, it reminded me of a recruitment drive for train cleaners, I swear I'd seen some of those blokes before.

It's nice to be home, and even better the weather is great ain't it? I love snow as it gives me the chance to show off my skiing ability, although I did get the odd look as I sped down Tooting High Street this morning on my way to the Bagel Bake. It was a bit frustrating in parts though, as some c*nt had obviously tried to clear the piste a bit too much. Why can't the f*cking councils train their staff properly, you need a nice layer of ice on the road to make skiing easier.

Anyway later on I'm off to carry the Olympic torch, I really couldn't give a f*ck about Tibet so I'm looking forward to it. It's great that someone actually recognises the fact that I won the only Platinum medal ever awarded back in 1966 at the Tel Aviv winter olympics. All those c*nts I work with think I'm making it up because they can't find it in the record books, not my fault that nobody else showed up because they all went to f*cking Japan a couple of years earlier. Carrying the torch has the added bonus of me not having to try and ponce a light off of anyone when I fancy a fag. So if you want to cheer me on...make your way down to Motspur Park, I'll be the one in the black outfit and the Uzi.

Shalom

The Mossad censors will still not allow me to tell you what our man is up to, but I'm sure you all read the papers and know what's going on in Gazza. Once it's all sorted out, I'm sure we'll have some exciting new tales to hear, plus he'll have a supply of duty free fags to get through so will have plenty of time to hang around by the bins regaling people with them.

Until then I shall take the odd five minutes away from washing shirts of a brown colour to keep you up to date as much as I'm allowed.

Heil Hilter

Benny

Mood:  not sure

Well unfortunately, just like that famous scrounger from the Royal family who has just returned from an all expenses paid hoiliday in Afghanistan, the Mystery Man is also away on an operation which cannot be spoken about in Newcastle...which is probably rougher when you think about it. So it falls to me - Benny - to keep things ticking over while he's gone.

Now not being as verbose as our Man, I'm sitting here racking my brains for something to say that won't offend Jews, Muslims or anyone else...well I've been hitting the Schnapps so that's a waste of my time. I am expecting radio contact at some stage today so hopefully will be allowed to fill you in with some of the operational details tomorrow.

Heil Hilter

Benny

Mood:  lazy

Well I got all dolled up yesterday in my Saturday best black balaclava for the synagogue in an effort to impress the new Rabbi. Total f*cking waste of time though - a bit like the new Rabbi. He looked pretty familiar when I first saw him, but at the time I couldn't place it...I think the stick on beard he had on fooled me for a minute...but it's while we all sat there waiting for his sermon to come through on the fax machine that it dawned on me. It was that window cleaning geezer obviously trying to earn a few extra dinaris. Anyway I'll be on the hotline to Tel Aviv later...that c*nt cannot be allowed to continue.

Usual routine today...Bagel Bake followed by a can of Norseman Lager with a Pepsi Max chaser, and a few left over Truffles from a couple of old boxes of Milk Tray while I polish my Uzi...life does not get better than this.

Shalom

Mood:  not sure

Hello c*nts, I'm back. I really can't explain why last week I was totally speechless. Anyone who has ever come across me will tell you that I'm never lost for words...but with the Mossad hotline dead, most East End gangsters also dead, no major disasters, and peace moves in the Middle East, my life was an empty shell.

Anyway I thought I'd take the opportunity when things were quiet to nip over to my flat on Lake Geneva and check it out. The Yankee General who's renting it off me is currently in sunnier climes, so I can stay there even while he's paying the rent. Of course getting there was a bastard. As a loyal Israeli/Swiss/British/Sudanese/Australian/South African/Zimbabwean/Iraqi citizen, I wanted to use my Air Miles for a free flight. However El Al don't do a direct flight to Geneva from Fairoaks, and none of the other f*cking airlines accept Koshermiles...anti semetic c*nts...so I ended up taking Ryanair to some place in Italy, and then scaling the Alps using just the elastic out of my Y fronts and a broken match. Took me a couple of days to get there but I saved at least 20 quid on the fare.

I was pretty pissed off when I got there though and had a look through that Yanks gear...he's a big fan of Englebert Humperdinck. Now for those of you who don't know, me and Englebert had a bit of a run in before he became famous, and he still owes 15 shillings back rent on a penthouse suite he was renting back in Cricklewood, so the sight of anything to do with him drives me mad. That Yank's going to have the shock of his life when he gets back...I swapped out all the Englebert stuff with some Bernie Winters and Schnorbitz...now there's real talent.

OK, well I got back yesterday, and someone has tipped me off that a new Rabbi has been approved by Mossad, so the Synagogue might be worth visiting again.

Shalom

Mood:  lazy

What a f*cking week...dead quiet, no assassination plots, no airport terrorism, no World Cup finals, no wild nights out with East End gangsters, and in particular no boxes of Milk Tray to deliver.

So for once in my life I have nothing to say...maybe tomorrow I'll have something to comment on.

Shalom

Mood:  lazy

Jesus, sometimes I f*cking hate Sundays. OK I get a break from pushing my trolley around but it's those autograph hunting c*nts at the Bagel Bake that are making my life hell. Ever since the Evening Standard put the Bagel Bake on their website as a 24 hour eatery, some f*cking headcases who read this sh*t have been dressing up in black and hanging around the door. My trip to buy a dozen warm Bagels now has to be planned as carefully as collecting the back rent from Engelbert Humperdinck, luckily for me though the Bagel Bake has always had a secret entrance, just for the use of famous people and Mossad agents.

A couple of you have taken me to task about the unique Jewish way of predicting the weather on groundhog day. One of you reckoned it was unfair as it's pretty sunny down in that part of the world so the poor dangling Arab will always have a shadow. Can't say we noticed, probably because we got caught up in the excitement of the whole event.

Nothing else going on, my bike pump is still missing, and no word from that c*nt Jimmy Saville about getting me on "Jim'll Fix It". Wait until that c*nt turns up at the hospital next time, I'll run him over with my trolley and shove his cigar where the Sun don't shine...c*nt.

Shalom

Mood:  not sure

Blimey, been a hectic week and today put the icing on the cake (kosher of course). I was up early this morning to do the hospitals version of that Yankee thing Groundhog Day. We wheel a hospital trolley out into the car park - after tying down the bloke that's lying on it - and then hang around smoking fags until it's tea break time. If we see the trolleys shadow we know we're in for six more weeks of TB victims, if not well that normally means it's pissing down with rain and the bloke on the trolley dies of Pneumonia within six weeks...some wag suggested we use Jeremy Beadle but another hospital beat us to him...c*nts. We used to do a similar thing when I ran the Israeli Navy...we'd hang an Arab and at the appointed hour if we could see his shadow we knew we could bomb the Gaza strip for another six weeks...it never f*cking failed. Don't ask me why the Yanks prefer a rat to do the job for them.

Then it was off to the Synagogue which is once again Rabbi less. A synagogue without a rabbi is about as useful as a secret agent who doesn't buy made to measure suits...pretty f*cking useless. It's pretty chaotic there at the moment as everyone thinks they can do the job...even some of the women are sticking on beards and having a go. Reminded me of an old Monty Python film although the name of it escapes me for now.

I finished off the day down Tooting High Street sticking up posters of my missing bike pump...I haven't had much of a response so far, and my usual sources don't seem to know anything either...I think I'll write to Jimmy Saville and see if he can fix it for me to get a new one...always wanted one of those plastic badges he'd put round your neck.

Shalom

Mood:  not sure

So I think I'd better get the big news out of the way. Not one of you c*nts has given me any information about my missing bike pump. Looks like I'll have to turn to my old mates in the London Underground now, although Frankie Fraser doesn't seem to carry the clout he once did, he just doesn't have the will to pull peoples fingernails out with pliers the way he once did. I would get Mossad involved, but after careful consideration, I've decided that it's not really a state security matter for Israel, and I can't prove there are Arabs involved.

Synagogue yesterday was a bit of a joke. If you are all wondering how that c*nt Peter Hain is going to spend his Saturdays, well there he was yesterday wearing a stick on beard and doing his best to try and read Hebrew. My guess is that the Synagogue Elders only got him in because he has a knack of getting in some dodgy money. Show's what a bunch of f*cking retards they are. If he was any good at it he wouldn't have got caught, and wouldn't have to resort to supplementing his pension by picking out real coins from the fake ones on the collection plate, although maybe he needs a couple of coins to complete his 'Famous corrupt politicians set', you know the ones I mean, you get a coin with every five gallons at Esso.

Anyway as always, Sunday is my weekly trip to Brick Lane. Ever since that thing appeard in the Evening Standard the place has been beseiged by what I can only take as big fans of mine. They hang around the door wearing Black Balaclavas and carrying boxes of Milk Tray which they probably want me to sign. Well if you're reading this...get a f*cking life...plus I never use the front door of the Bagel Bake these days.

Shalom

Mood:  lazy

I've been getting a bit lax in bringing this up to date. Lots of reasons, first off the bottles of Domestos had to be secured last Sunday after someone tried to steal one of them. Now I'll admit to nicking the odd bog roll from the hospital traps, although I try to time my craps to when I'm there, but I don't nick the cleaning stuff, especially when it's in short supply.

The other reason was that some c*nt nicked the pump that was on my bike, and because the tyres were a little low I had to blow them up myself. I'm well pissed off about it as it was a special bike pump awarded to me by Golda Maier herself for my efforts in capturing 20,000 Egyptians single handedly during the Six Day War. I don't talk about that incident much but it took me forever to get the sand out of my bike shorts, that's why I switched to Tanks later on. Anyway it made me late getting to the Bagel Bake (I don't care what the f*cking Evening Standard want to call it) and by the time I got back I decided not to bother typing anything. If anyone tries to sell you a white plastic bike pump with Hebrew writing on it, let me know and I'll be round there in a flash.

I'm going to try and get down the Synagogue later on, the rumour mill reckons we're going to have a different bloke doing the service today after the Polish guy did a runner. Apparently he can earn a bit more on a building site lugging bags of concrete around, he didn't think much of the idea of getting the proceeds of the collection plate as his payment...well it's a building full of Jewboys, how much did he think he would earn? These f*cking Eastern Europeans, mind you at least they try and work for a living unlike some of the lazy parasites I see hanging around...enough about NHS employees though.

OK, I'm going to sit back and wait for you lot to get in touch about my bike pump.

Shalom

Mood:  not sure

OK, sorry about missing my update yesterday. The hospital is currently getting that deep clean thing that the government is on about. The cleaning company have actually got in extra supplies for the occasion, they don't want anyone nicking the stuff though so I got a bit of overtime to guard the stuff. Never has a Sainsbury's carrier bag of Domestos been better guarded. Rumour has it they'll actually use all three bottles in the week to come...hope they don't...my bog back at the safe house could do with some, and I'm hoping to take the left overs back there with me.

Because of my money grabbing ways, I missed the synagogue yesterday, but my intelligence reports suggest they're still using that Polish bloke. He's cheap, and he's even fixing the plumbing in the mens bog, for once the guardians of the synagogue look like they've done a good deal. Not sure if he'll be the permanent guy though...we really need someone Jewish in the long run.

Some of you have been in touch referring to an article in the Evening Standard about 24 hour dining in London. You're all asking me if the Beigal Bake they referred to is the famous Bagel Bake where I used to work, or am I just an illiterate c*nt who doesn't know how to spell? Well I must confess the Evening Standard got it right, but I'm not illiterate either. I've been deliberately spelling it wrong for all this time in the hope that you f*cking retards wouldn't know what I was talking about. The last thing I want is some of you hanging around outside the doorway trying to get my autograph...f*cking Evening Standard...I don't think my Sundays will ever be the same again...c*nts!

Shalom

Mood:  lazy

F*ck me...I still feel dead lazy, maybe I'm pushing too many trolleys at work, or maybe I'm not cut out for all night vigils outside the local mosque anymore...I don't know. What I do know is that I'm struggling to muster the energy to type...maybe it has something to do with those old Mars Bars I found in the cupboard, they were past the expiration date, old Mars bars might drain your energy rather than give it to you. Now I've bought up the subject of Mars bars it does bring back memories of my wild days back in the 1960's before I joined that elite Israeli security agency. I was living with some bloke called Mick at the time and his girlfriend used to like a nice cold Mars bar...mind you I think she didn't eat them straight away...his room was always covered in chocolate where she'd let them melt...what a waste.

Those pedals I got from Halfords are a pile of sh*t and I'm going to have to take them back, my feet keep slipping on the chrome so I can't build up a head of speed. I've been caught on so many speed cameras it's unreal, I know some coppers call me the 'Flying Yid'. I still managed to get down Brick Lane this morning though...can't miss out on my Bagel fix.

The Synagogue has nothing interesting to report...they actually got a proper Rabbi in on loan from some place in Poland, mind you for all I know he could just be a plumber...he spent the whole time speaking f*cking Polish which is one of the few languages I'm not fluent in. Won't take me long to learn though...I've discovered a good way to learn a language fast, no real secret, I just don't let anyone else get a word in edgeways and then walk off...always works for me.

Shalom