The Blag

A bunch of geezers have welched on a blag

Ergo, I’m putting together a firm. I need some faces.

It’s a night job down the smoke. We’re going to alf inch Madge’s rocks from The Tower.

You must have some form and not be a grass, squealer or rat.

We’re not going tooled up because I don’t like claret. So, no Growlers or Nostrils

This is the big one. No room for Charlie Big Spuds. It’s deffo an FTS

No dog & bones, my email setup is solid. Just in case, we’re having fake names. [All from Greek Mythology, of course]. I’m Helen to throw the rozzers off my scent.

Agamemnon is taken by Flat nose Pete (Public Relations).

Tabby is cat, how could she be other.

I’m replacing names in case the coppers get a sniff. The Tower is Bus Shelter and the Jewels are A bag of mixed nuts & raisins.

Bang me some details and what you’re known for [eg Wheel man, Sparks, Drummer, Jelly man]. Please use the contact form. Also, let me know what your Greecian name is.

NO Pilchards.

This Firm is massive – I’ve got a gaff near Dagenham: for the chopper.

I am an equal opportunity employer and committed to providing a safe and respectful working environment. So, it might be kosher if you’re a skirt.

Any birds must be fit and up for it – you know what I mean. If you want to apply you have to send some photos. Good ones. Not shit. You know what I mean. Show us your tits and a bit of leg. This requirement does not apply to men.

Little Fellas are right with me, in the designated area

It’s a night job. Less chance of being spooked by Battle Taxis. Don’t want no Mops about either. You must have a torch and some turtles.

The blagg’s going down in March so you must be available in March.

Keep all this shit under your hat and watch out for undies.


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