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Ssssssssssssshhhhh ...

Sssssssssshhhhhhhh! Don't tell anyone I'm back. If they know I'm home they'll send people to get me. Nasty people. People with dark suits, dark glasses and guns.

Why am I so paranoid? Well, if I wasn't they'd get me (hahahaha). Actually I've just managed to escape from Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq and I can tell you the stories are not nice.

You know those photos you've seen - well they are nothing on what I have just gone through. Electrodes on my goolies, being naked with a lot of Middle Eastern chaps (not nice) and having to stay awake 23.9 hours a day to avoid that weird little guard chick.

You know the one - the gal who sorta looked like a cross between ... well I can't say, but she was scary. When I was forced to undress she sort of just looked and then a smile came across her face.

"Hey, what's the matter," says I, "it's cold ... and I'm old."

So you'll want to know how I got myself into the world's most infamous lock-up. Well, it wasn't easy. I went to Iraq to have a chat with Donald Bumsfilled, or is that Rumpsfilled, anyway he took exception to a line of questioning I was pursuing.

It went something along the lines of ...

"Hi Rumpsfilled, how's the torture game going?"

Let me tell you that no sooner than the words had left my dry and cracked mouth I was lifted off the floor by two huge guards who looked about 7-foot 19 inches at the knees. I was carted off, had a hood put over my noggin and then biffed inside a somewhat stinky cell.

I don't know exactly how to describe the smell, but if you imagine a male toilet at a footy match mixed with the aftermath of a dodgy prawn vindaloo then you'll get an idea.

I was held incommunicado for three weeks and was subjected to horrendous tortures above and beyond what I mentioned earlier.

I won't go into all the gory details, but if I hear another one of George Dubya Bush's speeches I'll slit my wrists. Damn that man can mangle the English language.

Anyway, I managed to escape using something I had discovered while getting out of the Heaven's Close Old Folks' Home. You see my toenails grow fairly quickly and are - like many old guys' ones - very thick.

Basically after a couple of weeks in prison I was able to pick off part of the big toenail and then carefully sharpened it by rubbing it on the concrete floor for some days. When it was ready I managed to pick the lock and while the guards were having a photo session I legged it over the wall and to freedom.

Using an old people-smuggler friend of mine I was able to get back to Australia via Indonesia and it wasn't that expensive - seems the price of the trip has dropped considerably in recent months.

Anyway, here I am back safe and sound - but keep it to yourselves for a while.

If there is something that has really got up your nose, let Grumpy Old Coot know at grumpy@webwombat.com