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Story No. 256
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Slightly flustered, I picked up my tarnished bell-end and tucked it away under my
chocolate sobuteo figureens, Nestled between kevin keegan and Kenny Dalglesh's turgid crumpet
jumped up and began to sing, 'Oh! you oily devils. Where did thee come fray? All around my hat!' and so-on.
But the feather I'd so artfully placed in the hatband fell out and so I cried. A lot.
In fact so much did I cry, that in order to avert disaster all nearby pedestrians had to be doused in chicken tonight and
just enough white wine to give it a little bit of a tang.
thegit
angie
Harold Bishop
