THE RETURN OF LENNY NOGGINS – THE LUNATIC ILLEGAL IMMIGRANT

lenny noggins

THE GIRL FROM THE COUNTY OF ESSEX!

“Well, well, well if it isn’t Mr Lenny Noggins! Crikey mate where have you been…not seen you for an age?”

“Sadly Landlord the reason for my extended break from this here boozer of yours is a bit of a tale of woe.”

“Best you have a pint of the usual on the house then…you know, before you spill the beans on what you’ve been up to. Here you are, and in your much favoured pewter tankard to boot…good health mate.”

“Cheers Landlord, this one won’t touch the sides methinks.”

“Right then Lenny boy fire away.”

“Well Landlord what I have to tell you is a story of the curse of being an illegal immigrant always aware that I might be hounded by both institutional authorities and indigenous populous alike in this oh so very cruel world we live in.”

“Crikey that sounds a bit serious…tell me more.”

“Well heralding from this County of Kent as I do, yet unable to find either the love of a good woman or gainful employment here, I took the view that I should make my way across the River Thames into the County of Essex where I had heard tell the womenfolk all bang like shit house doors in a gale and where, if one is prepared to work one’s bollocks off there are jobs aplenty.”

“I’ve heard that about Essex girls myself funnily enough.”

“Anyway…and so it was that I decided to venture to pastures new yet, as ever my life outside Kent would be again blighted by my status as an illicit migrant. As ever prior to taking that drastic step across Old Father Thames I’d done my homework. In point of fact I’d met a girl online through one of those dating agencies…an absolute stunner by the name of Davella. You should have seen the selfies she posted. Drop-dead gorgeous, stiletto heels, silicone implants, blond streaks, a perfect fake suntan and very little else, although in one snap she’d stretched the elastic waistband of her knickers out a bit revealing cheeks of perfection and displaying the fashion house label she said was her motto in life, NEXT!  What more could a virile chap like me ask for.”

“She does sound a corker Lenny.”

“Over the period of a couple of weeks online we got to know each other well and she suggested I move to Romford in said Essex and stay with her no less.  Better still she said her old Dad, Dave would find me a job driving for his firm. Things were on the up.”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Of course, first thing I had to do was figure out a covert way to cross the river and thus gain entry to Essex. To my mind the safest bet…what with me not being a strong swimmer…to transverse the estuary would be to smuggle myself across under cover of darkness using the passenger ferry from Gravesend over to Tilbury Docks. This I achieved by supergluing ginormous magnets to the palms of my hands and soles of my feet thus enabling me to affix myself to the hull of the boat without attracting any attention. The plan worked a treat and as arranged previously Davella was there waiting for me on the other side with an oar to prize me off. It was thus that I had arrived in Essex undetected by the authorities. The thing was I couldn’t get the fucking magnets off my extremities and as the magnetic effect was so strong as to play havoc with her satnav on the sixteen mile journey back to her pad she let me attach myself to the roof of her shocking pink Fiat 500. Not that I complained but it was pissing down and a howling gale had begun to blow. Sadly she’d left the oar in Tilbury so that night she had to let me sleep atop the vehicle wrapped in a thermal blanket. Yet for the sake of true love I cared not, although all night long I was busting for a Jimmy Riddle.”

“Crumbs Lenny you could have died of the cold, it is winter after all.”

“True, yet I’m a hardy soul and came through the ordeal unscathed, albeit still attached to the roof of her car. Well at dawns first light she came out to me and fed me a bacon butty by hand as well as holding out a cup of tea with a straw in it enabling me to take in both nourishment and liquid. The thing was in broad daylight Davella wasn’t the girl I’d seen in the selfies online. Indeed this girl had something of a beached whale about her very being. Whatever she said she’d given her Dad a call to come over and detach me from the motor and once detached she suggested we make straight for the bedroom so as to get to know each other a little better. Dad duly arrived, took one look at me and called me a ‘tosser’ and stated quite eloquently that there was no way his ‘Firm’ could use me on the bank job they had planned for that very afternoon – shame really as I’d always fancied working in the banking industry. He did however get one of his burly chums to wrench me off the car though.”

“That was handy.”

“You’d think so wouldn’t you yet given that he placed me down upon a manhole cover of metallic construction I was you will understand effectively bent over on all fours at the roadside. The ever so burly Davella looked me up and down a bit saying that I didn’t look as handsome as in my photograph and that she’d gone off me so I may as well, ‘Fuck off home’ – her words. So there I was an illegal immigrant in Essex with no girl and no job.”

“How did you get back then?”

“Well it took me seven weeks of jiggling my body up and down in order to gain forward momentum but eventually I got back safe and sound, via the Tower Bridge route and had Syd down the garage take the magnets off using some special fluid or other. As it happens along the way folks presumed I was travelling in this unique manner for a charity event and they kept stuffing money into my back pocket as I went about my way…made a cool £1750 if the truth be told.”

“So you’re quids in then…nice one Lenny boy. You do realise though that you don’t need a passport or entry visa to get into Essex and you could have simply taken a bus there.”

“Now you tell me! I never knew that.”

“True Lenny, though do tell me one thing how did you manage with your number one’s and two’s en route?”

“Don’t even go there Landlord…mind you Syd down the garage was somewhat overwhelmed upon my arrival.”

 

 

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14 thoughts on “THE RETURN OF LENNY NOGGINS – THE LUNATIC ILLEGAL IMMIGRANT

    1. I’ve been running Lenny Noggins on and off for a little while – he is based on an idiot I once knew who always wanted the kudos of being a law breaker yet was never brave enough to do so so he made up laws he’d broken and was ridiculed by one and all down the pub!

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