I would rather go drinking in mid-wig, playing on a drunk kit, after shopping for a shit at the Swap Shop in Shropshire, while we’re there we can buy some fridge maggots to remind us of our trip, the weatherman said there will be loads of 3 degrees Celsius, Princess Beats rice around her head while watching ‘Breast Development’, she then took the guitars to Nutella and spread her across the rice at a stubble party that was held for them both, the rice was Beat, a bitch is ‘airy in the local paper, ‘‘any jizzy Jesus sauce with that?’’ one of them said, ‘‘we haven’t been into the news have we? let’s create a peacock app. design your own peacock,’’ dub me tender, dub me true, she had been worming at the factory for over 20 years, that’s the way to celibate success, in (Hawaiian) shorts the scheme means this…, it’s the equilibrium of Charles Darwin’s Theory of Eva Lewin, it is people of all colours, creeds and religions that make up our Danny Dyer culture, no stone is left unstained in Creative and Pretentious Writing, indulging in pro-masta-cration, The (Sun) Columnist Manifesto: lie, exaggerate, twist, fill people’s minds with froth, remember when Colonel Orde Wingate wore a shapeless wet toupee? after the nice drinking, reading the poems of Sim(ple) Gay Lord, we’ll go down the road and get a Madonna’s breakfast, which includes coffee, hash browns and a porched egg, ”Bill Oddie, Bill Oddie, put your hands all over my body, living is easy with nice clothes, what a nice day for eating trifles, da, DA da da, DA da da, DA da da, make me think, make me move like a fridge,’’ the custard lady, hoping to go away on holiday as part of her anal leave, lots of sniffing could be a sign of a croquet addict, branded haddock and chips with chocolate lager, The Only Way is Eczema, ‘‘have you seen my green pack of lizards?” hop on the Circle line then get off at clitoris station…
To be contingent.
Written by Ricky Murray