My Dearest Georgie

I am taking this drastical step to get touch with you because all else has failed. I send you letter to your home address which you have perhaps quit and buggers are not forwarding to you.

So desperate I get my brother Sven to deliver by the hand a letter to you my love. Sven coming to England because he is made reduced from Swedish porn industry on account of the credit crunching and stuff (it always the essential industries what is first to suffer in such trying times). And he hoping to get job in British video trade which he think is doing very well at the moment.

But Sven is not most reliable of persons so I have to take such step in hope you will not be angry with your Anna.

I suddenly remember how we once go to tattooing parlour for having your password inscripted on very private part of Anna’s body, in case you are forgetting it – the password, not Anna’s body, for how could you forget that, eh, lover boy!

Any road up (see how I remember English collequiasms) I ask Gregor (cameraman, you remember him?) if he will look and write down password for me. Don’t worry. I get him promise to forget it in return for small favour I do for him. He got very small intention span anyway.

Your Anna have been reduced in circumstances to working in sweat shop. You have these in England yes? Little shop that sell sweats and chocoletz? Plus the Coke – which is not the kind for the snorting up of the nose, but well known American fizzy drink which also get up nose but not with same effect – ha ha, little Swedish joke.
Busy time for Anna when little kiddiwinkles coming home from school and wanting the Mars Bars and other such muck. And looking at Anna’s bottom when she bends down for the liquorice torpedo – little buggers.

Lady what own shop has dead husband, so is lonely. After shop close she often invite me upstairs to partake glass of gin and discuss economic crisis and other activities.

Anna miss terribly her Georgie. How about slipping over on Stenna Line? We can make hay while moon shines, eh? Have not had sexual proclivities filled for some time – well not by male person.

Hoping this letter is finding you as is leaving me. (That little trouble have all cleared up now. I am thinking the anti bioptrics done the trick – I was getting nowhere with the live yoghurt, though I eat many tubs of the shit.)

Hoping to enjoy the pleasure of you before long. think of you every day as I dish out the gob-stoppers.

Your little playmate

Anna