Sweaty, bulbous pumpkin tartlets stuffed with cracked wheat, onion and victorian pranny,

carved up quite roughly and served with policy summary, caroline fluff from deep inside, arab straps and celery twits.
A side dish of bragging rights which has been gushed on with gloaty, warm twinge and trouser tent. Washed down with four, count them, four bottles of Louis Roedere Cristal (1997).

Accompanied by Acolyte Zippy, Happy Fingers Institute and The Telescopes - thrashy, loud and moshpit jog.

Posted By: malkybarkid on February 24th 2011 at 12:50:30


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