The following are courtesy of Uncle Butch (heaven knows where he gets them from?)

10 complaint notes to the Local Council:

The Toilet is blocked, we are unable to bathe the children until it is cleared.

Our Kitchen floor has evidence of damp. We have two small children and would like another child, so please send the repair department round to do something about it.

Our Lavatory seat is broken in half, so now it is in three pieces.

I am writing on behalf of my bathroom sink, which is hanging off the wall.

Will you please send someone to look at my water, it is a funny colour and not safe to drink.

I want to complain that tiles are missing from my toilet, I think it was that bad wind the other night that blew them off.

Would you please send someone round to fix my garden path, my wife tripped and fell yesterday, now you should know, she is pregnant.

I am a single woman living in a downstairs flat, could you please do something about the noise from the man I have above me.

Despite having the Clerk of Works down and about my floor on at least six occasions, I have had little or no satisfaction.

Please send a man with the right equipment to finish the job and satisfy my wife.

and ...

A letter from a favourite Aunty.

Dear John,

You should remember that old people like me are worth a fortune, Silver hair, Gold teeth, precious Kidney stones, and gassy stomachs.

But there is life in the old girl yet, I am seeing FIVE men at present

Will Power helps me out of bed each day. ( followed by a hasty visit to see Lou)

Mr Quaker provides my oats each day.

Athur Itis shows up, (he doesn't stay in one place long) taking me from one joint to the next.

After such a busy day, thank goodness for my old friend Johnny Walker to go off to bed with.

Oh, I should have added that I'm flirting with Al Ziemer.

Your Aunt, is such a frivolous old girl!!

The Vicar came round the other day and said " At your age you should be thinking a little about the hereafter".

I replied "Oh I Do, I Do" ....no matter where I am, the lounge, the bedroom or the garden, I always ask my self "Now what am I here after?"

Your Loving Aunt,
Aunty Macassa.

P.S. I might have sent this letter to your bother Frank by mistake! so if he calls you, pretend you don't know anything about it.