Was Anya Peters a homeless person using technology to her advantage or just another con artist out to exploit people with her gimmick.
Read the facts about Anya Peters and decide for yourself.
New readers would be best advised to start at the beginning to acquant yourselves with the saga.
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Inspiration
Anya is reminded of another interesting facet of her life that she thinks will be of interest to her fans .....
10 comments:
Anonymous
said...
This photo is clearly a fake, otherwise there would be a priest ironing her shabby coat of many colours with an iron plugged in to a magic fairy's arse. Probably.
A car won't overheat within a mile.... I suspect this bizarre tale is complete twaddle, note how all the cheeky chappies are straight out of the 1950's. Most modern workman would attempt to "goose" the woman with the palm of a sweaty hand.
Anya's dignity remained intact. This is clearly utter bollocks... AND love, you told us ages ago the book was finished and secreted under a pile of blankets and empty muler light pots. Sweet god. Its either finished or its not.
It must be said that this is one of the more boring articles posted by Anya (and that's saying something).
Surely it would have been more in keeping if a load of Pearly Kings and Queens rushed up to her broken down car, the sun glinty glinting and sparkling off their colourful costumes who then would have summoned a troupe of singing and dancing chimney sweeps who would have pushed her car to the nearest garage. There, jovial mechanics with big shiny red faces, greasy hands and a rag sticking out of the back pocket of their dungarees would have fixed the car up as good as new whilst making Anya a cup of Rosy Lee before sending her on her way with no charge and a cheery wave.
Let's face it. It's as likely as her pile of bollocks about "workmen running up the road to help her". In London? "You're 'avin a giraffe, luv!!
You too are very talented! You've just transformed YOUR day into a musical comedy. I begin to understand the fairies...I love the giraffes imagery, luv!
Heres a thought... Once the Austin Chummy was repaired by Bernard Cribbins dressed as railwayman why didn't the daft woman continue with all gods speed to the laneway..... she merely repaid Bernard's kindness by turning round in the Streetway and drove off home down the Roadway. One can only assume she then sat in the jutting out kitchen drinking Bovril and deciding what hat to wear for the next outing. We are gripped madam and cannot wait for the next episode,
She's trying to create some dramatic tension by her gripping post about almost going to the laneway.
It's beautiful how she was helped by some kindly workmen in overalls. This happens all the time in London, one can hardly walk the streets without seeing workmen rescuing cats, helping people whose cars have broken down, chimney sweeps and coal miners singing and dancing and Pearly Kings and Queens doffing their caps to t'gentry.
What a fine City Lodon must be. Now wonder they are holding the Olympics there.
So much different from the real one I see every time I visit.
I saw a drugged up woman crawling along the street once with an apple in her hand. Two bobbies approached and I thought "Hullo! they'll cart her away for some help now". But they just moved her to the side of the pavemenet where she wasn't causing an obstruction and then walked away. She was so out of it that she could have been raped, murdered or anything.....
Such is the value of life down in t'smoke.
Nuke 'em all is what I say.
At last that would give Anya something to put in her boring blog.
"As I pulled back the curtains in my jutting out kitchen, I was caught by the magnificent blast of a two megawatt nuclear detonation. The sky melted into an irridesant blue as the shock wave headed towards me and, as the first streams of fear trickled warmly down my legs, I felt sorry for all my fans who would miss me when I was gone but who would undoubtedly have two minutes silence for one of the greatest authors ever to live in a laneway........."
B A N G ! ! The End.
Hugs and skeletal waves from where the radiation has peeled the flesh from my arms .....
10 comments:
This photo is clearly a fake, otherwise there would be a priest ironing her shabby coat of many colours with an iron plugged in to a magic fairy's arse. Probably.
A car won't overheat within a mile.... I suspect this bizarre tale is complete twaddle, note how all the cheeky chappies are straight out of the 1950's. Most modern workman would attempt to "goose" the woman with the palm of a sweaty hand.
Anya's dignity remained intact. This is clearly utter bollocks... AND love, you told us ages ago the book was finished and secreted under a pile of blankets and empty muler light pots. Sweet god. Its either finished or its not.
Warmest Regards
Mr Crumpet
Everyday she becomes more God-like in the eyes of the world (apparently).
This can only do wonders for the forthcoming mighty tome !!
Hugs and ploppy splashes ...
Anya Peters
so after topping me up with warm water they directed me to the nearest garage where a mechanic...... blah blah..... fairy's, trees etc....
WARM WATER?
How come everyone around here can see fairies? Are they attracted to the Famous English sense of humour?
Meaning: HEATED WATER! It's what you should be drinking instead of whatever you're taking, that is overheating your mind...
It must be said that this is one of the more boring articles posted by Anya (and that's saying something).
Surely it would have been more in keeping if a load of Pearly Kings and Queens rushed up to her broken down car, the sun glinty glinting and sparkling off their colourful costumes who then would have summoned a troupe of singing and dancing chimney sweeps who would have pushed her car to the nearest garage.
There, jovial mechanics with big shiny red faces, greasy hands and a rag sticking out of the back pocket of their dungarees would have fixed the car up as good as new whilst making Anya a cup of Rosy Lee before sending her on her way with no charge and a cheery wave.
Let's face it.
It's as likely as her pile of bollocks about "workmen running up the road to help her".
In London?
"You're 'avin a giraffe, luv!!
:o)
Hugs and chim-chimanee chims ....
Anya Peters
You too are very talented! You've just transformed YOUR day into a musical comedy. I begin to understand the fairies...I love the giraffes imagery, luv!
Giraffe Hugs....
Heres a thought... Once the Austin Chummy was repaired by Bernard Cribbins dressed as railwayman why didn't the daft woman continue with all gods speed to the laneway..... she merely repaid Bernard's kindness by turning round in the Streetway and drove off home down the Roadway. One can only assume she then sat in the jutting out kitchen drinking Bovril and deciding what hat to wear for the next outing. We are gripped madam and cannot wait for the next episode,
She's trying to create some dramatic tension by her gripping post about almost going to the laneway.
It's beautiful how she was helped by some kindly workmen in overalls. This happens all the time in London, one can hardly walk the streets without seeing workmen rescuing cats, helping people whose cars have broken down, chimney sweeps and coal miners singing and dancing and Pearly Kings and Queens doffing their caps to t'gentry.
What a fine City Lodon must be.
Now wonder they are holding the Olympics there.
So much different from the real one I see every time I visit.
I saw a drugged up woman crawling along the street once with an apple in her hand.
Two bobbies approached and I thought "Hullo! they'll cart her away for some help now".
But they just moved her to the side of the pavemenet where she wasn't causing an obstruction and then walked away.
She was so out of it that she could have been raped, murdered or anything.....
Such is the value of life down in t'smoke.
Nuke 'em all is what I say.
At last that would give Anya something to put in her boring blog.
"As I pulled back the curtains in my jutting out kitchen, I was caught by the magnificent blast of a two megawatt nuclear detonation. The sky melted into an irridesant blue as the shock wave headed towards me and, as the first streams of fear trickled warmly down my legs, I felt sorry for all my fans who would miss me when I was gone but who would undoubtedly have two minutes silence for one of the greatest authors ever to live in a laneway........."
B A N G ! !
The End.
Hugs and skeletal waves from where the radiation has peeled the flesh from my arms .....
Anya Peters.
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