Poor bloody Reg Neil.
He is actually a really good bloke, one of nature’s gentleman, and unlike my glee at the Bovver Boy’s missus’ fail, I am particularly saddened to learn that Reg didn’t make it into City Hall, for he would have been a fine representative for the folk of Northgate, the sacred land where I once jiggled the Twirler’s beads and thus the Sprog’s conception was consecrated and made complete.
I’m sure Reggie would have won the Ward too, if only he hadn’t allowed that born loser The Lawyer Who Couldn’t Cut It In Private Practice into his campaign camp.
That hopeless union leader is just plain damn bad luck.
I’d tell you all about it and show you some proof, but some windfalls come replete with confidentiality clauses to prevent Bunger Boys from boasting about beating up bampots, so I’m sad to say I can’t.
But you can trust me.
I’m not a lawyer.