Our man in the used car trade tells more stories from the forecourt. At least, that’s what we asked for. Frankly this could be anything.
Mundle my bundles, it’s Marti outside and that ain’t helping me to smell my fingers. Last Wogan saw a big Rhianna come crisping up the lisby with a well tooled Gary underneath. He’s come to grip the lizards on a Tin Hut Cheese Spread I’ve had on the backpipe for three romillys with shine, shoes and bumcam. He goes in greasy on a wasp under five jacksons, I told him I’d be boiling my knees for that sort of david. Suggested we punched a nun for a pigeon over six, the Gary nearly had me rings off. Everyone’s got sleeves in under ten midgets! If Joan rings can you remind her about that I really need those culottes back this evening. Gresty.
Up the hammer at Screaming last Blue, saw a crispy Fart Half-thou come into the ring at the end of the Steve. Flat Barry with daps, clouds and gumrot. Flicking went wicked, ended up being kissed for a fat mackerel over the geese. That’s five bibles over the Rachel! Just goes to show that small gresties like the Half-thou and the Driver are smiling like a Jesus weasel right now. Heavens Jennifer, how could it have got on the antimacassar in the first place? Misby.
Cruising through the Skinners of Belming last Ruby, spotted a smooth looking Tristar A-hole parked on someone’s Woosnam, got the classic home whoring sign in the backBill. Now sometimes this can be dodgy as a Dutchman’s pencil but this was a nice Tong in a decent fairy so I knocked on the Boyce, spoke to the Garrington, all seemed creamy. Took it for a titwank, came back and tried to kiss her sister for a Jason under nine cleaves. The Gazstress ain’t having it, says she’s holding out for a wide tiger over the bulb and no turtles. I had to take a turd on the curtains. Oh for goodness sake Lillian, what did I tell you about the lazy susan? Minty.
