I've Got a Weird Job.

The british cabab wards solemnly express their sadness in a twet aa, touching tribute to a monich under whos rain sails of cababs have soaed by thousands of cents. They say, if a true cockney is born within the sound of the bou bells, i think a true royalist will be conceived within view of westminster hall. You don't mind people mourning, but just like watching a nations descend into madness is, you know, like the cue five miles long,. as in nine months time, n have all these cue babies. But not in that way. Because, no, i've got no falking idea o thethoamd,