Thursday, August 19, 2010

The Chins Of Belgian Rapid Toad-Response Officers

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The chins of Belgian Rapid Toad-Response Officers haunt our dreams and nightmares offering us beguilements beyond even the ken of Barbie. We have seen the marmosets at dawn, and we have seen Dawn just after Rosie’s sensuous fingerings have left her without the wit to put the milk in her own tea mug without some unnecessary dampening of her counterpane.

Still, even now you are sorely tempted to disparage all our most well-regarded Sopwith Camels, even though you have been awarded first prize for the moistness of your baps by the Committee For Awarding Things To People for the third year in a row. Sometimes I wonder if you do recall that it was you who lost at Strip Ludo and had to pay the consequences.

Still, we will always have Tewksbury, that is unless you lose it down the back of the sofa again playing that strange game where you dress up as a VAT inspector and I have to hold the radishes.

Now I do not know if you still like to change TV channels whilst wearing the minimum of clothing and holding a lupin, but it is no longer any of my business, even though the salesmen in the TV shop have requested, several times, for you to desist. I don’t see the attraction of the shopping channels myself, even though you demonstrated the Anchovy-Aligning device you bought from them to me several times.

The radishes are still quite crunchy though.

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