Loose lips sink ships

Yes Tartly gets quite riled and frankly damn irate when blonde haired ladies men, like Julian Assange hide out in some ghetto style; poor mans hotel(Ecuadorian  Embassy) and refuse to face his masters...in my day we didn't use hair products, wear stockings or sneak around listening to other peoples conversations then tell our neighbours, well of course we did eaves drop during the great war and the old champaign glass against the wall stood me in good stead at some of my old university digs but how dare any infidel steal secrets like "who the Americans hate" and why did the Pavalova need passionfruit instead of strawberries as a wonderful topping. Yes corporal punshment has its rewards and me thinks a little stint in G bay would bring all of us old boys so much joy...surely any brainless fink could tell by those big words , swish glasses and chino pants something was definitely up and given the opportunity i would personally charge this fortess like a bull and drag him down from that ivory tower in London.Yes Tartly may be aging but i still glide like a butterfly and sting like a native queen bee..but alas due to my rectal inflammation, there is little i can do apart from sit on my inflatable ring on the Chesterfield , god knows it's some small piece of solace whilst we wait for Julian Assange meet his just desserts...though pray tell i think i can hear the neighbours having a domestic...now thats real entertainment...tootily poops Tartly