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.