Tim Timiny Cheerio Idiot Meets Charles Dickens

While I’m working on another book, there’s been a distinct lack of posts on the site.  You have my sincerest apologies. In an attempt to make it up to you, I’ve gotten in contact with a certain street urchin who’s posted on this site before. He agreed to “write” a guest post for you in honor of Charles Dickens’s birthday.

The only edits I’ve made have been spelling when it hasn’t taken away the charm of Tim’s distinct writing style. Clarity and cohesion be damned.

Hullo there, friends! It’s me, Tim Timiny Cheerio Idiot again and let me tell you, it has been a long while since I was last able to put me thoughts down on paper. It is like that mostly because I had a job at a steel mill! That was fun! There was all sorts of men who looked at me all weird-like and said, “Boy, yer accent is fuckin fake, don’t fuck with us.” But my accent isn’t fake because I’m from London Town and this is how we all talk at least from the time when I was born. I can’t die, you know. It’s because a Gypsy woman put a curse on me when I was ten and stole a pocket watch from her because it was shining in the light and my boss the man who takes things said, “Timothy, you go steal that watch or I’ll beat the piss outta ya” and so I did. But the Gypsy woman caughted me and said, “No,” and then put a curse on me that made me never age or die.

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The Autobiography of a Street Urchin

My feets is wooden this is me last month before the constabul kicked me out of the parks

Hullo my name is Tim Timiny Cherrio Idiot and i was born nder blackfriers bridge in london seven years ago. My mum was the queen of the bridge and she had people who worked for her but then those people was beaten by the constabuls and so they ran off and me mum said ‘bloody hell’ and thats when they taked her to a place where the people scream all the time. The man with the hair what goes ‘fwump’ when you throw plush balls at it they call him a judge he told me that i was in kustodee for my own safety and i didnt have any thing to say on account of my voice not being working yet because i was a wee little child.

And so the constabuls was supposed to bring me to a family which lived in the countryside in that town they call Pighurst-on-Timz but the constabuls attacked each other because they got hungry in the car on the way over and one of them the fat one took the skinny ones chips that they took from the brown man they called a Packee. The skinny one said ‘you sodding fat bastard’ and beat the fat one up and then the skinny one took me to his house and said ‘get to work now and dont you tell no one about what you saw.’ i didnt do much work though on account of i was a wee little child.

years later i could do work and that s how i learned that moonshine the drink not the moon’s shine blows up if you throw it on a lighted match. thats also how i lost me legs and feet but the dokters at teh NHS fixed me by giving me wooden feet and legs. And thats why my feets and legs is wooden.

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