Elephant Sack Race

So, this is how it is, and these are the armpits of a Swedish dental receptionist. I saw her wearing waders and a small German hat in Wolverhampton, one Tuesday morning.

This should have been like an elephant hopping towards the finish line in that never to be forgotten sack-race of your nightmares.

I could have trained each of those ferrets to become ambassadors to the Latin American government of your choice. I would have - oh, so willingly - eaten your toast… despite the rumours.

So, that is how it happens and we have to learn how to become like small attachments to use on our electric drills at the stroke of midnight. Some of this is old, some of this is new, but most of it will irritate those of us who would prefer not to be Canadian at such an intimate - and potentially embarrassing - moment, especially with that custard-covered traffic warden in such close proximity.

What else is there, except a small device we can utilise to insert peanuts into the nostrils of our more prominent media celebrities?

I should have known about times like these before I spread the peach slices all over the dental hygienist.