While deleting spam this morning, I noticed one of the emails had not been picked up by spam filter and been appropriately tagged. This happens from time to time but the curious thing about this email was the subject line which, curiously, was both spelled and punctuated correctly. It simply read

“YOU HAVE BEEN IDENTIFIED AS UN-AMERICAN”

“Well done,” I thought to myself. “Am I bovvered?” I thought secondly.
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Did you know that God Hates Goths?

I’d like to take the opportunity to address the points raised on this website that’s still under construction but as I haven’t stopped laughing yet, I don’t think I’ll be able to. Still, for what it’s worth, let’s have a look.
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The internet may well be shit, but every now and then you find a pure sparkling gem in the rough.

The sun beat down on us as we drove through the countryside. Or at least it would have done if it hadn’t have been for the fact that we were in the wild depths of North Yorkshire. Despite it being a typically Northern overcast June day, the air was warm and muggy. We were in good spirits, looking forward to our journey and laughing and joking with each other. It took us a good ten minutes to realise that we were totally and utterly lost.

As luck would have it, we saw a farm ahead where we could get directions. J. slowed down as we drew closer and we saw that beyond the ramshackle gate with the hand written Beware of the Dog sign that the farmyard became what could only be generously described as a scrapheap. If we had been in a John Boorman film then I’m sure there would have been rusty old pickup trucks in place of the rusty old robin reliants and the staring, bald inbreed with eyes that were too close would have been playing a banjo rather than a ukulele.

We decided that we could find our own way back and hightailed it out of there before the first shotgun blast rang out.