pouring over rhubarb crumble mmm
but your ■■■■■ sound like
a 500 Norton passing a
a Gardner 240 fitted inside
the boot of a Travant
In the Ukrain heading towards
that talking meerkats house for
directions back to Lower Swell
avoiding the weight limit near
them nasty VOSTAPO peeps who
live on Wigan Pier with
those camp pixies who sing
I belong to Glasgow at
three oclock every morning wearing
Carryfasts’ bright sparkling knickers and
pink socks with a mini
skirt and an awful tartan
hat with ginger frills hanging
like naughty Libyans after shouting
about the live haggis racing