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I think I have mentioned before in these pages that Mrs.GOS sometimes believes that she is Queen of the Fairies. I don't mind her dressing up in diaphanous garments and flitting round the house singing in a fluty sort of voice. If she could manage to provide the odd nubile handmaiden (also in diaphanous garments, preferably) I shouldn't mind at all. That daft girl from "Two pints of lager" can flit winsomely round my shrubbery any time she likes. I do, though, have a little difficulty with her demands that I girdle the earth in 40 minutes - there are speed cameras
However, I respect her sincerely-held beliefs. And so should you. And everyone else.
So I'd like to take this opportunity to issue a warning. There are far too many insulting references to fairies in literature, in the media and in popular culture. If you use the word "fairy" to indicate a person of confused sexuality you are insulting my wife. If you poke fun at the very existence of fairies, you are questioning her beliefs and sanity. And since she is the Queen of the Fairies, it stands to reason that if in a book or film you depict an image of the Queen of the Fairies that doesn't look like Mrs.GOS, you are guilty of offensive sacrilege.
I demand that the international community put a stop to these gratuitous attacks on my wife and her religion. All books by the Brothers Grimm and Hans Christian Anderson should be burnt. There will be an immediate fatwah against the alleged William Shakespeare, and anyone who has the temerity to act in his plays (a man with a donkey's head? You'd better watch out for your own head, my friend).
I also call on Mr.Tony Bliar and his toadies to enact further legislation to outlaw the glorification of whimsical fiction which may or may not include references to fairies, Christmas pantomimes, J.M.Barrie and a certain brand of washing-up liquid. We have a right to expect that our religious beliefs be respected. Or else.
And if you stick an image of Mrs.GOS on your Christmas tree with a sprig of conifer up her bum, there'll be placards in Trafalgar Square quicker than you can girdle the earth, mate (that's about 40 minutes, speed cameras permitting).


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