Dear The Ruts,


I must heartily recommend that you desist forthwith, The Ruts. Whilst on the top deck of the 114 earlier this afternoon I was mortified to witness a group of devil-may-care youths extracting great delight from 'mooning' at myself and other passengers whilst sniggering heartily at their peurile antics between themselves. It was plainly apparent that the more the vulgar cleft-shenanigans were gawped at, the more they were encouraged in their sordid endeavours. Staring at the rude boys must therefore be summised to be the least savoury course of action as it only serves to encourage them. I also fear that laughing at the rude boys could be wrongly construed as laughing with the brash bucks, with similar, misconstrued, goading results.

I look forward to your observations unless of course ''something that I said'' has caused offence.

Yours sincerely,

D. Philpott

P.S. On an unrelated note regarding another of your punk rock classics, Jean and I are at somewhat of a loss to understand how the jitters may act as tinder relating to an ancient Mesopotamian metropolis


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