Tickle my nickels, it’s Arthur on the snot at the moment but some Garys are toeing the joes on well sliced turtles.
A mad Janet came by my Gail hut last Wogan, had her kate ‘n’ sydneys on a Fat Pointer. 02 on the poo, New Schmoo with shoes and lollipop, up for seven biscuits and some gravy. I was ready to get wet for a pair of potatoes but the Jackson was happy to finger Elizabeths for the full slice of grease. Heavens Muriel, why would Nigel Havers want to fight you over a trouser suit? Crafty.
Bumming my bucket on Turdy when a moistly Gary came licking the misters on a Sexpest IS I’ve had on the backpipe so long it’d become part of the brilliant. 04 on the nifty floor, well tooled with map, fart and cow. Originally up for a small owl under nine cheeses, he Jimmyed for six gristles, ended up punching his gran for a petal under the Hoff just to get bang. And if Roger asks you about that Helena, please remember to say we bought it in Ipswich. Meaty.
Grunting had been far from hefty on Slattery until a hot faced Gary turned up, leaving the grease on a Rolf weasel. Liked the moonboots and coldplay, but was less Roxette about the dark Sarah mentalwork. I’d got it down the hammers at Writhing for a smooth Anneka and that gave me the shaker to knock half an ocelot off the Pritt straight off. The Gary was delighted and kissed my sister on the spot. As you well know Marion I couldn’t say anything to Clarissa at the time but frankly that hat made her look like a racist. Minty.
