a place where all the hoyplee de hoy meet,its grand lad joost grand,Ive joost coom doown from up norf like lookin for a offce joob in the big smoke,Ive walked all ways doon from Harlepool in cap an cloggs with joosta peice a black puudin in me pocket and a biro.But its been worth it mind to see all rich folk office workers walking aboot like little penguins all over the city.Ay by gum I kinny wait to git started,it will beet sowing mailbags,soon as I can find meself a joob in a office.Dio the secatarys coom free?a meen do we have toshare em like?or do we get one each to do as we please with,are they clean,do they get regular health checks like the totty in Amsterdam,can you spank em.Once Ive been trained to use thee high tech stoof like the tallaphoon Ill be the bees knees man,with me manbag over me shoolder singing rool out the barrell in a real oold cockney poob.And the mooney I save by sleepin under me desk Ill be able tosend mooney hoome so mar and par can have real electricity not the watered down stoof that poor but proud folk have te put oop with.An everyweek Ill post da a bag of cement and some worter so he can build just wot he always wanted a outside toilet,no more crappin out upstairs windoow like common folk.And for meself are be able to git some high class Loondoon wheels like all the other Loondoon flash barstards Ive seen,I can joost see mar and par and all the neighboors lookin out the windows as I pull oop on me wheels,"look at him"theyll go "he gone all posh noow hes git a joob in Loondon hes got a Barclays bike,and its goot a rack oon flashing lites on eet"Before you no it all me mates ell be doown to the smook to get there own.Ill proberly git mine coostomised with 10 foot chopper forks and a long pink furry saddle big enough to take my office totty on back while wee poodle round Loodon waving at other office workers.Ay it will be grand lad with a bell and everything
A oop its greet this
(6 posts) (4 voices)
wheels man wheels is what youve need
If you want to do accents you should at least try to get it right.
Greg: "Bitter? Table for one." I thought that it was (at least) not some tired old office humor sh-t, or some Off-blah crap.
Matey: Bitter? No. Bored? Yes. I've dropped off half way through, the three times I've tried to read it, but it seems to be a lampoon of provincial folk coming to the capital to seek fame and fortune. A subject rather done to death over the centuries. I believe if they really want to get on they bring a cat with them and never venture north of Highgate.
As for the accents I can detect Tyneside, Teesside, Yorkshire, Lancashire, Cockney and possibly East Midlands. It's rather like listening to Russell Crowe do Robin Hood.
I've no particular axe to grind as I've no connection with any of these places (though I've only gone back to the mid 19th century with Ancestry.com) and the nearest I've been to Hartlepool is a fleeting glance at it on Google Earth, but the accents are a mess.
P.S. Your origins from the wrong side of the tracks are very evident
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