Just wanted to extend a belated welcome back to the sun burnt country to our wayward adventurer Davie! I am sure he is rather keen to realise his plans for the future, that he had so long to think about over at Club Gitmo, so I thought I’d help. I wouldn’t want to be misrepresentin’, so here are his requests for assistance in his most urgently desired endeavours, word for word, just as he wrote them to his old flattie Louise:

LISTEN, have you got any friends I can f– when I get home? They have to be good-looking and I prefer big tits as well. Well, send their photos with the letters so I can check them out.

(Responding to Fletcher’s suggestion that she might write a book about him): Don’t try to write about my adventures because you don’t know that information.

Nobody does, so it would be inaccurate. I would prefer if you wrote nothing about anybody, for that matter. Shit, I would have no chance to make any money when I got home, otherwise.

So best of luck with the chicks and the… moolah. Just go easy on the Jew-hating now, fattie (bastards)!

UPDATE: Looks like I am not alone in wanting to help. Down Under we call this mateship.