Dear freakin' stonewashed freight train,
Daddy is now officially a fish and can swim and everything so I've bought him some macaroons and an old Kinky Kinks album for the next time he goes down to Burnham in search of a bit of fin. If you see him shimmying down to the seafront, spare a smile - after all, the height of a square can often be confused with its length if it gets accidentally tipped over during a barn dance for example, and then his teeth fell out!!
Barney Kettle can't find the flannels but the mothership tells him politely that they'll return for him in a few hours, none of which is true, and some of which is mostly false, providing you can supply two forms of ID and I'll have some sandwich spread on mine, cheers - I think the marmalade is off.
Trattlethork the Incendiary Funk-Mollusc is about to go onstage, and, Ladies and Spivs, that means it's time for a pinch, a punch, the first lady of the Starsky Bureau and we all pretend to cry like spiteful screwdrivers in a lift.
Tripseed Wackhound lV
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