It’s a bit like one of those things, y'know? Obviously not the blue one with the fur all down the... well, you know what I mean. I don't have to draw a diagram.
Although, if I did have to draw a diagram, I'd want better pencils than this. I mean, really, come on, this is indeed the century of non-consensual free-form hamster tickling after all... or is that next week? I seem to have mislaid my diary.
Anyway, as I wasn't saying, this is indeed a time of great change and opportunity, especially someone as relaxed about public nudity as your good self, especially when allied to your almost insatiable sexual curiosity and deep interest in the erotic use of the soup ladle.
Obviously, now we should be discussing the burning issues of the day, otherwise what is the point of you donning quite so much erotic fetish gear, and peeling the peaches, but still I wonder if we should not pause, at least for a slice or two of cheese on toast before it is too late?
Even then I'm not quite sure if we will need the unicycle, or the brace of performing quantity surveyors, at least at this juncture. Still, as they say in the deepest darkest heart of the Walsall jungle: 'fucked if I know.'
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