Listen sunshine, you wouldn't be able to identify "The North" if it jumped up and bit you on the "Officers Forum" seeing as the furthest you've been without a Chauffer to get you there is probably Sloane Square to pick up your inbred, buck toothed, large ar5ed, tweed and pearl wearing girlfriend (whose name is probably Felicty or Pookie). You make out that you are all pally with "The Chaps" when inwardly you both despise and fear them. You don't realise that when they salute you and call "Sir" they are actually thinking "Cur". We tend to be able to 5hag WRAF officers as we are the only real men they meet on a daily basis as opposed to the chinless G&T swilling Hooray Henrys in the creche (sorry officers mess) You couldn't find your ar5e without direction from you batman (and as they are no longer in service, you must have a mingin' ring from wiping your elbow every time you go to the toilet). We didn't have a Miners club because that Tory Harridan, whose poster probably adorns the wall of your office (signed, Good Luck Tarquin, Love Maggie), Thatcher, managed to close the pits, putting good men out of work and ensuring Britain has to rely on imported coal for it's power. So take your commision and use it to protect your chest as, come the revolution, you will be first up against the wall.
PS: Mummy sends hugs!