Yesterday was the last day you could use the internet without the stinking government spying on you. In future I shall check my emails in a series of internet cafés, wearing a Mexican sombrero and dark glasses.
London is the most hellish place I have ever visited. Last time I counted there were five CCTV cameras pointed directly at my front door. These days you would need to be mad –literally insane- to travel on the Underground without a Mexican sombrero.
“Please report any suspicious behaviour to a member of staff.” Whenever I see one of their members of staff I take him to one side and whisper that some fucker keeps filming me. And you have to admit that’s suspicious.
Now when I travel I buy a ticket with my credit card then I pay cash for another ticket heading in the opposite direction. Last weekend, for example, I wanted to visit my old Mum in Norfolk, but I didn’t want the government to know that. So I bought a ticket to Scotland, sending the police haring off in the wrong direction, while I concealed myself in Tie Rack. Then, when the coast was clear, I boarded the Norfolk train wearing a false beard.
And the beauty of the scheme is that my mother doesn’t even live in Norfolk. It was somebody else’s mother! I am outwitting them at every turn.
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