Mood:  lazy

My head f*cking hurts. I was so upset about all the stick I got for my performance at the Synagogue yesterday that I opened a tin of Mackeson last night...that stuff has a kick to it I can tell you. Things ain't be helped by the Mossad Hotline going off all the time with angry callers. It seems Hanna Kah ain't an Israeli pop singer after all but some kind of religious festival, and that a Menorah ain't jewish slang for the men's bogs but some fancy form of candlestick. How the f*ck am I supposed to know that? I only had the operation so I could join that elite Jewish security organisation and get the discount at the Bagel Bake.

Talking of Bagels, I don't even fancy any of them today, that should tell you lot that I'm feeling dead ill. If I don't get any better, I can see myself pulling a sickie tomorrow at work...don't think I've used TB as an excuse for a while...might be time to pull that one again.

As for the box of goodies I mentioned last week...well let's just say that it looks like that James Bond geezer gets all the good stuff. My box had nothing in it but f*cking balaclavas that can be turned into lethal weapons, and a little tin to keep your Milk Tray from melting...in other words it was a pile of shit...mind you I should have guessed something when I saw what was written on the box...mentioning no names as such but it began with A and ended in M.

Anyway I'm off to a darkened room to do some comfort polishing of my Uzi barrel.

Shalom

Mood:  not sure

So there I was, lying back on my Israeli Army Camp Bed, dreaming what it must be like to wear proper Y Fronts, instead of these Khaki things that Mossad give me when the phone rings. It was Goldberg telling me he'd been stranded in the Caribbean by a palgue of locusts or something so could I fill in for him today. Now you're probably wondering why he just didn't get on the phone to Rentarabbi and get a stand in for the day. Well he has only so much of a budget for things like that... plus he knows I'm a cheap bastard. Anyway my passion for speaking is renowned and I leapt out of bed as quickly as that morning when I was resting after the Tour De Vicki Park when someone said the dope testers are coming.

Now those of you who regularly read this shit will know I've complained more than once how boring the Synagogue can be. Goldberg rattles on about some religious bullshit when all we really want to do is go and grab a kebab. So today I thought I'd liven it up a bit...a quick phone call to an Underground car park in Balham meant my helicopter was up and running in no time. I'll cut this short but basically I made my entrance dressed all in black, crashing through the window and abseiling down a rope at the same time. That got their attention I can tell you. I have no idea what everyone expected after that, so I just told a couple of stories about when I went drinking with Reggie Kray and what a dopey cow that woman was to name that f*cking teddy bear Mohammed...Abdul or something would have been a better choice...she probably didn't want to get it mixed up with the bloke who run the corner shop or something.

I'm sorry to say the reaction has not been good, everyone kept mumbling about someone called Hanna Kah...I can only guess that she's some sort of Israeli pop star or something and that's who they were expecting to see. Someone even complained that I didn't light the candles on the Menorah...again I don't have a f*cking clue what he's on about...I used the trap in the gents afterwards and all the lights were working...what do I want to waste f*cking candles for? So I suppose when Goldberg finds out I won't be asked to fill in for him again...no loss...can't say I fancy getting the black outfit dry cleaned every week.

Shalom

Mood:  not sure

Well normally I'm normally full of things to say, but this morning I'm really stumped for words...nothing going on...the Tel Aviv and Milk Tray hotline are dead quiet.

Anyway we still have that acting Rabbi standing in for Goldberg, and he's about as straight as a hospital trolley with a bad wheel. I'm not too keen on the crowd he attracts either. Going into the bog for a dump is not a pleasant experience, it seems there are more blokes than normal in there, in fact it's so overcrowded I noticed the other trap had to be occupied by more than one geezer at a time. They must have been pretty ill too judging by the groaning noises I could hear. This has also lead to an outbreak of vandalism...some c*nt has put a hole in the panel between the traps...now while they may have been acceptable at the Mossad academy, I don't think it's right for the Synagogue. Hopefully Goldberg's return will see things back to normal.

It was nice to get home after all that, all the f*cking traffic on the roads with all the Christmas shoppers about, this is where I have a leg up on all you other c*nts, because of the circles I move in I get access after hours...not that it does me much good...not many places sell those knitted Uzi warmers which keep the polished barrel nice and warm and ready for action.

Anyway I have a little box full of stuff  which my masters in Tel Aviv want me to check out, so I'm going to grab myself a warm Bagel and get on with the job in hand.

Shalom

Mood:  irritated

Mossad HQ, like you lot no doubt, gets lots of f*cking shit sent its way. It wastes time as we try and decode everything, just in case someone is sending us Osama Bin Laden's address in a council flat in Stepney for instance, or even better has come across a seasonal discount at some Bagel shop somewhere (Yes we're loyal to the Brick Lane place obviously, but a deal's a deal). So what really pisses me off is those c*nts from Burkina Faso who keep offering me some wonderful deal where I'll inherit millions from some other f*cker who died in some disaster somewhere.

I think I need to make this clear to my yellow overall, rubber booted friends.

I don't know anyone who has died in a f*cking Tsunami, although the roof did blow off of Benny's shed once when it was raining, ruined his porno collection but that's another story.

I don't know anyone who died in the World Trade Centre (at least that's the official line...got to maintain some degree of secrecy).

I don't know anyone who has died in a plane crash either, I might fly all over the place but I've always been able to take over the controls before we've hit a mountain or something. The only guy I know who has been killed in a flying incident was Corporal Liebenstein during the first Gulf War...and that was because the stupid c*nt put his sleeping bag in his parachute bag...bought a whole new meaning to a HALO drop.

I think what I'm trying to tell my Russian based African friends is F*CK OFF YOU C*NTS...stop wasting our codebreakers time. In future Mossad HQ have given me the OK to copy and paste these e-mails received on this page...then we'll show the world what a bunch of c*nts you really are.

OK, rant over, not much else to report, still got the gay rabbi this week so no new message will be forthcoming, and with the decadence of Christmas coming up I've been asked to test drive a few presents for the undercover Mossad operative in your life...more on that in the future.

Shalom

Mood:  lyrical

Strange kind of day yesterday, where all my troubles seemed so far away as my mate Ronnie used to say. First off a trip to the Synagogue where Goldberg had apparently threw a 'sickie' and hadn't showed up. Now far be it from me to criticise anyone, but those stand in Rabbis from Rentarabbi don't really cut the mustard, and I'm f*cking certain that they haven't had the Mossad background check done on them. Yesterdays schmuk was a geezer calling himself Norton, and I'm pretty certain he was batting for the same side as Ronnie used to. Seemed a little too interested in male to male relations for my liking, a f*cking gay rabbi...never saw them in my day...just shows how bad things have got...he didn't even have a beard. The upshoot of this is that this c*nt doesn't have access to the top secret Fisher Price code book, so the next part of the message I'm supposed to get from Tel Aviv never got to me. Once Goldberg gets back from the Bahamas rest home he's gone to I'll have to chase him up.

Once Synagogue was over, it was up on the bike and a quick trip to St Georges hospital in Tooting where it was the hospital trolley expo 2007. Even though this current undercover mission was not of my choosing, I like to make sure I'm up to date with the latest goings on in the trolley world. This years must have accessory for your trolley is a GPS system which is built into the handle, means you'll never get lost and take someone to the Mortuary instead of Physical Therapy for instance. It's pretty old hat to me though, many years ago Mossad scientists implanted a microchip in my brain which is GPS enabled...I never get lost. Benny reckoned it did have side effects though which is why it never became standard practice, I disagree though...to me fluent bullshit is one of the most up and coming languages in the world...I'm an expert.

OK, time to hit the Bagel Bake, I might even get a few extra to take into work tomorrow, not to share with the lads though...a stale Bagel makes an excellent spare tyre for a trolley, and with NHS cutbacks we've quite a few trolleys with flats hanging around...makes them a bugger to steer.

Shalom

Mood:  not sure

Well what a week that was. I see England managed to f*ck up the chance us Mossad boys had given them after last weeks victory over the KGB select. What a bunch of overpaid c*nts. Mind you with that twonk McClaren having done the decent thing and got sacked, there is now a job opportunity that might get me out of this rut I've got stuck in here at the NHS. While the Underground railway somewhere in London might not have appreciated my leadership skills, I think I'm just what the FA ordered. So on Monday I'll be down at Soho Square with a shaped charge and a helicopter - would use the VW Beetle but parking is hell down that way this time of year, and I don't want to pay the congestion charge - and I'll be leaving my CV on that bloke who runs the FA's desk, I'll even throw in a box of Milk Tray as an extra sweetener. Of course I'll want to bring in my own backroom team, and I'm glad I've got on Mad Frankie Fraser's good side, he's agreed to be my motivational coach. It's nice to know after all these years he can forgive my siding with the Krays, plus with Mossad's expertise at getting information we'll have every teams game plan in the draw well before the game. Only sticking point I can see is that I expect everyone to be circumcised, Goldberg's primed and ready for that job, not sure if those overpaid ponces are ready though.

So this week I've been doing a lot of PR work building up my reputation. I even pushed a few extra trolleys around so I could bend a few more peoples' earlobes. I even have some of the press on my side...the West Bank Times will be running a Jewboy For England campaign...as soon as I've dug up some incriminating evidence on the editor of The Gaza Strip Sun. No problem, be amazed what Mossad can achieve with an inflatable Pig and a stale Bagel.

Anyway, better get off to the Synagogue, I'm really pumped up for it this week, I feel like after all these years in undercover exile I've finally found my calling.

Shalom

Mood:  lucky

Well what a surprise at the Synagogue yesterday, Goldberg actually put in a large size TV so we could cheer on our mighty football team against those commie c*nts from Russia. What a game...and it was free pickled herring all around once the match was over. My mood was dampened though by someone pointing out that England would now probably qualify for something that's happening in Austria/Switzerland next year. Normally I couldn't give a f*ck about the English team, but the prospect of some drunken football supporter pissing in the entryway of my Geneva apartment building doesn't please me. I'll get the wall electrified for the tournament I think.

With all of the excitement, Goldberg didn't make any speeches or anything, luckily though, using all those lock picking skills I learned while living in London's East End, I got into his office and found what I was looking for. "The Horse ran on the course" . I'll have to do some heavyweight decoding there I think, maybe I'll sit down with a warmed up Bagel and chew the matter over.

Some of you have asked why I don't mention what's going on at the hospital much these days. Well it's the new NHS gagging order that's stopping me, some bullshit about patient confidentiality or something. I'm pretty insulted to tell the truth, over the years I have been responsible for some of the world's biggest secrets such as the formula for Coca Cola, and the design of the Sinclair C5, have I ever let any of this stuff leak out...I don't think so. Apparently though some of my descriptions of certain people would allow some of their identities to be revealed, the straw that broke Mick The Miller's back, being the big eared w*nker from that Kent seaside town. I don't know how anyone could work out who I was talking about from that...there must be lots of big eared people down that way, probably because they're a bunch of inbreds. I've also lost interest in the NHS, ever since they turned me down for the elite paramedic cycle squad...c*nts.

OK, well it's a day of eating Bagels and talking to various agents from around the world on my agenda today.

Shalom

Mood:  lazy

Do you ever check out the guestbook on this site? It quite clearly states that only tip offs and other information that Mossad might find useful should be left on it. Well it's not exactly been swamped with information to tell the truth, but some f*cking oddball from Finland decided it was the ideal place for a political rant. At least I'm assuming it was a political rant, and not some extra long coded message. All I know is that I can't make f*cking head or tail of it. Still if any of you c*nts want to have a go at it you're quite welcome to, the policy of Mossad HQ is to leave all comments up for everyones pleasure, unless of course it is obviously a breach of national security...like the PIN code of Rabbi Goldberg's cashpoint card.

Also I think I should take this chance to clarify something that appeared on the BBC website this week. I am NOT the person who was up in court this week for f*cking his bike. I know I may talk about my two wheeled friend in more than glowing terms on occasions, but I'm not into it in that way, and besides the pedals would probably tear the bedsheets, and the gears would leave oil stains that are a bugger to remove.

Off to Synagogue in a minute, but I'd rather watch Israel play Russia at football. Unbeknown to you lot, it's actually a bit of a grudge match. Most of the Russian team are ex KGB, and the Israeli team are all undercover Mossad officers, so you can imagine all the ill feeling between them. I feel sorry for the managers to be honest, how the f*ck do you keep your gameplan secret? Should be a good game, and once I receive the Mossad DVD I'll give you lot a match report.

Shalom

Mood:  not sure

Good day to you scumbags, I'm sure many of you have scurried downstairs into your secret bunkers, in eager anticipation to find out what Goldberg said yesterday in the hope you can work out what he was on about before I do...more of that later.

My secret bunker is of course state of the art seeing as Mossad just put together this safe house. On the wall are pictures of some of the more famous kneecapping victims from the days I used to hang around with the Krays. There's also a class picture from the Mossad academy, but I can't work out who's in it as we are all wearing black balaclavas, I'm sure I was in the centre though seeing as I came top of the class. Since then, I've been working undercover so have tended to shy away from the camera, if people like James Bond want to be so unprofessional as to have their picture splashed all over the place, that's their business. My favourite touch though is the built in fridges for the Milk Tray and Pepsi Max, which means the chocolates won't have melted by the time I've broken into some womans bedroom, and have you ever tasted Pepsi Max when it's warm? Tastes likes Cat's piss...how would I know that...well that's a story for another day. I would tell you about the computer, but that's classified information and specially constructed by Mel the computer whizzkid back in Tel Aviv.

Anyway what about yesterdays synagogue visit I hear you ask...well I don't seeing as the bunker is soundproofed. Well you lot know I don't take much interest in what's going on, I drift off wondering how the hell I've never heard of these Torah Wilcox songs that Goldberg keeps quoting from, I mean he's never mentioned "I wanna be free", which thinking about it is the only one of her songs I can remember. Goldberg's quotes obviously come from her religious phase. My keen hearing always picks up when he slides in the coded message so when he said "The Grass is Green" I made a mental note. Pretty obvious that one...our informant obviously is the seasick guy on the boat that got lost in the fog, it's a message telling me not to line him up in my sights when the time comes.

OK, Bagel time then I'm off to put my feet up and watch some Water Polo from the Gaza Strip on the Telly.

Shalom

Mood:  lazy

I've often wondered what goes through the minds of you c*nts who read my weekly dispatches. Some of you are convinced that every week this whole thing is just a heavily coded message to Tel Aviv as we continue marching on to the day when us Jews will dominate the world, others seem to beieve that overall these are just the ramblings of a rather pathetic ex-mossad operative, who is full of wonderful stories to brighten up your dull lives. Well believe whatever you like, but when a blog can claim to have some of the most powerful people on the planet reading it - like the chief baker at the Bagel Bake for instance - there must be something in it.

Anyway what's been going on...not much to be honest...my whole week has comprised of pushing trolleys around corridors in a rather filthy hospital, spending lots of time talking to people (my favourite part), and keeping some old African dictator under watch until we work out whether to bump him off or not. I've always been good at keeping a low profile, so I'm well suited to this kind of work. It does mean spending many a lonely evening on my specially painted black bike trying to track someones movements by looking through a cardboard bog roll tube. I do get some strange looks, but if they can't work out what I'm up to then I must be doing my job well.

Synagogue today and you regulars will know what that means the next part of the coded message is due. It's all coming together slowly but surely but I've always been a more all action type of agent rather than one who gets information drip fed to him, but this must be one big f*cking operation for the details to be dished out like this. I'm pretty pleased to have been selected for it.

 Shalom

Mood:  not sure

There I was yesterday dozing off as Goldberg rambled on about something religious when my keen Mossad trained hearing picked it up "The Frog sat on the log". My first instinct was that I knew the French had weird habits when it came to using the bog but sitting on their crap was taking it to extremes. Later though when analysing the thing properly, I realised that I was merely to look out for a frenchman sitting on a wooden bench. Now putting this together with last weeks message it's all beginning to make sense, although I don't know how many wooden benches there are in that seaside town on the Kent coast. I'll have a look at woodenbenchesinseasidetowns.com later on, maybe they'll have the numbers.

After I left the synagogue I was at a bit of a loss what to do. I haven't received any money off coupons in the post so couldn't go shopping, the bike tyres are nicely pumped up, my trolley at work is nicely polished, and the end of my Uzi is gleaming. So I decided to take a ride around and see what was going on and nearly got knocked off my bike by a bus that had ladders sticking out of the window. I haven't seen that bloody window cleaner in ages and the bastard didn't stop. I'll certainly be using my contacts to find out where he lives now, I think we need words.

Today is the anniversary of one of the darkest hours of my Mossad career when I failed to prevent the assassination of Yitzhak Rabin. I believe this story is one of the things that Benny has prepared for the website, but the lazy c*nt hasn't got round to putting it up yet. In my defence I will say that Bagels taste better when they're warm, and the microwave was playing up a bit, my slackness was in no way a result of me listening to the lottery results on the radio, although it was a rollover weekend and the jackpot had reached 25 shekels. Anyway I was in the Mossad doghouse for a little while after that, I wasn't allowed to get any black cars out of the carpool for a month, the bastards even made me buy my Pepsi Max from Waitrose instead of Tescos. The increased costs almost sent me under.

Shalom

Mood:  lazy

First off let me say how upset I am with that fat bastard Meatloaf. He was supposed to be doing a kosher concert at the Synagogue, but the c*nt's called it off, something to do with exhaustion or something. F*cking exhaustion...he doesn't know what that is....during the six day war, me and Benny spent days going without sleep while checking out Egyptian positions and don't get me started on trying to keep up with Ronnie and Reggie's Brown Ale sessions. These f*cking rich rock stars are spoilt bastards and this is just proves it.

Had a bit of a security scare this week, it was brought to my attention that Mossad's top secret code book produced by Fisher Price was actually on sale at the local Toys R Us. Well I had to go and check it out, and it looks like the Tooting branch has an out of date version. Just as well, you know how much grief it is when security gets comprimised. Mind you I am pretty concerned to see Fisher Price have been knocking out all sorts of secret agent stuff although I was impressed by the Milk Tray guy delivery outfit...looked almost real.

Ended up using my B&Q coupon on some polish after all, and now my trolley at work is gleaming, I'm going to use what's left over on my Uzi and the chrome bits on my grapple hooks. When I carry out a mission I like to look my best, and when they see the shiny grapple hooks, security normally know they're dealing with a professional and that's half the battle won. I remember how I had the shiniest blocking bar when I worked for that Underground railway in London, the other c*nts used to say it's because I didn't do any work...if they weren't so f*cking slow they'd have seen me giving it a polish after I'd finished.

Shalom

Mood:  loud

Well I must say that the cleaners did an impressive job with my Skull cap. It's spotless, no that it did me any good with that job in Tottenham though, they gave it to some Dago c*nt. I'm considering consulting my legal advisor, might be a touch of the old anti-semitism here, although they didn't seem too impressed by my idea of changing their kit into a stripey outfit.

The Goldberg code builds up week by week, although at this pace it'll be the next Jewish New Year before I've got it all. "The Elephant has big ears" was this weeks contribution. Quite easy to work out this one. It's a clear reference to a seaside town on the Kent coast, and as I piece it together I'm getting the impression that super terrorist "The Cat" is lying on a mat, waiting on the beach for a boat called "The Dog" which has got lost in the fog. The big ears thing just tells me exactly where, although for security reasons I ain't telling you that.

I'll be out and about on the bike today, looking to spend that B&Q discount coupon I got in the post the other week. I think I'll try and use a different branch though, as my local one seems to be staffed by a bunch of retards who have no idea where the secret agent equipment aisle is, and they always look at me if I'm a f*cking moron for asking. I don't really know what I'm after to be honest although I'm sure it'll hit me when I see it. If I can't find anything for my undercover job, maybe I'll just buy some polish for my trolley at work, it could do with a spruce up.

Did you remember to put your clocks back? F*cking stupid idea if you ask me, I'm keeping everything set to Tel Aviv time so I know when the bigwigs are on duty there. I've found that it's the best thing for me, you never know when Mossad might need their ultimate killing machine to leap into action.

Shalom

Mood:  not sure

Well after all the anticipation, my package from Mossad finally showed up during the week. First off I'd like to say that some c*nt had already opened it and I couldn't look inside it until I'd had it checked for Anthrax or something. Then when I did finally get to look inside, I'd never been so disappointed since I got overlooked for presenting Mossad's SQE briefing for new agents...I'll never forgive Moshe for that. Anyway instead of the latest black clothing or grapple hooks which was what I was expecting, all the f*cking package contained was this months edition of "Mossad Monthly", a new thing by the powers in Tel Aviv to keep us all up to date with the latest goings on and who has assassinated who. Well some of the f*cking pages were stuck together, particularly where the interview with the geezer who played Reg Holdsworth was printed. What sort of c*nt wanks off over that? Careful examination of the envelope tells me it passed through a sorting office on the Kent coast, I sense an investigation will have to be held. The rest of the thing was a big disappointment too, no money off coupons or anything...tight fisted bastards.

Some of you have asked why I only update this thing at weekends. My answer to you is to mind your own f*cking business! Don't you understand that intelligence gathering is a 24 hour business, plus I have to keep myself in shape for the next round of Milk Tray deliveries. That all takes time, and the only time I allow myself any sory of break is at weekends when I'm getting ready to go to Synagogue, or pumping up the bike tyres before I head out to the Bagel Bake. Sometimes I might have an idle five minutes during the week but it's not often. Also when you drink as much Pepsi Max as I do, you spend a lot of time throwing yourself out of aircraft or snowboarding.

Anyway, got to go and pick up my skull cap from the cleaners, not only do I have to get hold of the latest coded message from Goldberg, I have a big job interview at some football club in Tottenham who would prefer a Jewboy in the hotseat.

Shalom

Mood:  lazy

Well first things first I've been up all night trying to work out what the latest coded message from Goldberg means. According to my Fisher Price code book, the message reads as "The Dog gets lost in the Fog". Can't make head or tail of it to be honest, and it's nothing dramatic...lots of things get lost in the fog. Anyway I'm sure it will come to me in the next few days and I can begin planning my next mission...with all the secrecy involved it's looking like it'll be a major one, I'm polishing my Uzi with excitement...I can hardly wait.

Still no sign of my package, but I did get something worthwhile in the post yesterday, a 10% off coupon for B&Q which I might go and use today. I need some new bomb defusing tools, my trusty wire cutters have worn out from the amount of times I've had to cut the red and earth the blue. I know many of you don't really have time for terrorists, and I can hardly blame you, but bear in mind if everything got nice and quiet it might put me out of a job, B&Q would lose money, and the makers of bomb disposal wire cutters might go out of business...it really pays to think things through you know.

Some of you have asked whether I've seen the bus driving, fax machine salesman Window cleaner lately. The answer is no, his bus hasn't been seen in the Synagogue car park for quite a few weeks, and just like Benny he has disappeared from the scene. I'm pretty impressed with the way both of them have gone to ground, it's almost as if they've been taking lessons from me on how to keep a low profile.

Shalom

Mood:  irritated

You f*cking c*nts who read this really drive me crazy sometimes with your daft questions. Some c*nt has sent me an e-mail asking who the UJF are. Now far be it from me to poor scorn on some f*cking retard who hasn't got his finger on the political pulse, but if you don't know who we are by now you haven't lived. But just to clarify, we are an alliance of closet Jews who may or may not have connections to Mossad and the Kray twins and have never met Frankie Fraser. I hope that clears it up. Our membership is so top secret even I don't know who is involved...I do know though that I am widely regarded as their master orator.

Speaking of c*nts, my package from Tel Aviv still hasn't arrived yet, and it may be that my masters back in Israel will have to resend the goods. This additional expense will mean that Mossad are less able to assassinate people who piss them off, and may mean a small deduction being taken out of my Geneva bank account. Bastard posties, if I catch that c*nt doing his rounds in the middle of winter wearing an exclusive Pierre Cardin black Balaclava I think a head shot may be in order, although thinking about it, those ones normally have kevlar lining...maybe I'll shoot him in the bollocks instead.

I'll be going back to my normal hospital on Monday after completing my two weeks covering in Slough. Jesus that place is a f*cking hellhole, and I pity any of you c*nts who live there. I ended up having to chain my bike to my trolley so I could keep an eye on it all the time, pissed off the surgeons no end as the wheels kept getting caught on the operating theatre doors. Can't say I was too impressed by them either, they would never have been able to handle what I saw in the MASH tents back in Israel.

OK, it's off to Synagogue with me, time to see what's next in my coded message from Tel Aviv, finding out what follows "the cat sat on the mat" has been keeping me up all week...the excitement is almost over.

Shalom

Mood:  not sure

Well my phone has been ringing off the hook since that Ming geezer quit as leader of the Limp Dems. I'm much in demand to stand for the leadership of the party and you can see why...I'm a master orator and can spellbind an audience for hours talking about nothing in particular, I have rugged good looks, and I'm a snappy dresser who has women falling at his feet, especially when I'm in my black outfit (just ask Madam Sue). However I'm taking this opportunity to rule myself out of the running, I'm already involved in the UJF and besides I don't want to pay the membership dues.

Of course this wouldn't be a problem if I took up some of the offers from my African readers, who are more than willing to give me some of the proceeds of the bank account of some geezer who has been killed in mysterious circumstances. Now while I am familiar with arranging accidents of this nature, I don't normally help myself to their bank accounts afterwards. If I need any extra funds, I either tap up Mossad for a few shekels or hang around the Supermarket car park for a while. So thanks to Mr Tarima West and the others who have made this kind offer, but maybe you could channel your efforts to people who need it...by the way I am a well seasoned traveller and am very familiar with Russia after my run ins with the KGB...whereabouts in Russia is Burkino Fasa?

Anyway enough talk, the phone's ringing again and I have someone waiting on a trolley outside the office.

Shalom

Mood:  not sure

Well I dutifully attended the synagogue yesterday to hidden messages in his boring ramblings. Checking with my Fisher Price codebook, I worked out that he was telling me that the "Cat sat on the Mat". Now I must be out of the loop or something but I'm wondering who the f*ck this Cat geezer is. Is he an international terrorist in the same league as Carlos the Jackal? If he is he must be a Muslim, they're always sitting on mats. Maybe next week when I pick up the next bit of the message it'll all become a bit clearer. I can only assume that this must be a mission of top secrecy as the information is being released in small bits, probably be christmas before I get the whole thing.

Because I spent so long working on decoding this crap, I didn't have much of a chance to do anything else yesterday, and there's still no sign of my Mossad equipment. This really will teach those w*nkers in Tel Aviv a lesson. They shove this stuff through the normal mail system because they get a discounted rate through the Israeli post office, but as soon as it hits the UK those lazy striking bastards working for the Royal Mail hold everything up. Bunch of lazy c*nts. Can you imagine what would happen if us secret agents stopped work for a while. Be f*cking chaos.

I do worry about the sort of person who reads this. Only yesterday I got an e-mail from someone asking me who Ronnie and Reggie were. Are you for f*cking real? I learned more off of those geezers than any Mossad training course, and one day if I can get my Jewish Mafia off of the ground you'll see what I mean. There won't be a Dinari in the land we won't be able to get our hands on. In the meantime if you really want to know, do your own f*cking research and Goggle it like I did.

OK, another week in Slough coming up so I've got to get the bike ready, plus my Bagels are getting cold.

Shalom

Mood:  lazy

It's been a bit of a weird week overall. Got a call from the hospital asking me if I wouldn't mind filling in at another place for the week. A change of scenery is always nice so I had no problem with it. Got to admit though the area was a bit rough, I'd heard Slough wasn't that great but I was f*cking horrified. Just glad my jabs are up to date. Also had to dig out my Mossad issued bike lock and remove the saddle just to be on the safe side. Forgot to put the saddle back on one night too, that's a ride I won't forget in a hurry I can tell you.

Now some of you lot are probably thinking I'm a bit of a tree hugger by cycling everywhere. Well when you've won cycling championships etc you tend to enjoy riding, and I must admit I do. But the reason is a little more obvious than that. It saves me a lot of money, Mossad took away the petrol allowance a long time ago, and I'll be f*cked if I'm paying the price that Tesco charge these days. It's bad enough having to pay 20p for air for the bike tyres, one of the reasons I invested in a new pump from Woolies the other week. So if anyone out there thinks I'm available for Airport protests or anything...go and find some other c*nt, once my US contact sends me my new fake ID for the US bases in England, I'll be filling up the VW Beetle there.

I've been told by Tel Aviv to expect some new equipment in the next few days, but because the f*cking postmen have been on strike it hasn't arrived yet. What a bunch of c*nts, don't they realise that this stuff I'm getting could lead to me being assigned a mission that might change history. Would never have happened if Ronnie and Reggie had still been about, they knew how to keep c*nts like that in line. Still gives me something to look forward to, unlike Goldberg's sermon this afternoon, but I've got my Fisher Price codebook at the ready so I'll have to go and listen...who knows I might even find out what sorting office my Mossad stuff is at.

Shalom

Mood:  irritated

OK, well no doubt you lot are all wondering what I got out of my trip to Woolies yesterday. The Tooting Broadway Woolworths will always have a special place in my heart, it's where I first signed up for Mossad, and I bought my first ever Black Balaclava, although it was closer to a shade of Navy Blue but back then I couldn't tell the difference. Boy did I get a lot of stick over that...it wasn't until my Auntie Sharon knitted me a proper black one that I finally got accepted as one of the lads...anyway that's a story for another time.

Well my trip was one huge f*cking disappointment. When I was an impressionable young agent, I swear the place was full of exciting stuff like shaped charges and ropes to throw out of helicopters. These days though it's all very tame, and from my point of view it's full of tat. They didn't even have the Uzi clips I was after. In fact my information was completely wrong. It was paper clips they were selling off on the buy one get one free scheme. I must admit I was mightily tempted by getting a box, but they looked pretty cheap and nasty, you need good sturdy ones to be able to pick locks and defuse bombs. So I came away almost empty handed, did pick up a new pump for my bike though.

Because of my trip there, I missed Synagogue. I can't afford to do that too often though as I've heard that Goldberg's sermons are really coded messages from Tel Aviv, if I miss too many sessions they won't make much sense to me at all. Also they've just launched a new 'frequent attender' scheme. It's a bit like Air Miles but instead of free flights, you get things such as free fillings for your Bagels or a cheap funeral. I need to get in on that, the Bagel Bake has just put up its prices.

OK, better get on, got to keep the bike in ready to roll condition in case I'm asked to carry out a last minute covert operation.

Shalom