As i don't have memory issues, ever, to my surprise, as i just slightly fight on every dawn a new one i remember every yet-to-be hooked back into the big warm scarf weavin' and im a good weaver
firstly im aloud to slag off even the moody slags who promise work in their bog cleanin operation lastersum.... as gibber liars as ... i have been even lower caste than Siddhartha himself....and the Pasty gibber promisin a year ago "bonus" wages.... lying she had run out of cash...
well i enjoyed with more than pride, indeed real love.... doing what i filmed...
and soon will be here but i like slow ....
and then we have the ultimate land-lady.... thirty five fine acres....
But then Brighton, Glastonbury dont half take the farmgirl she once was out the middle aged saddest person even Herb couldnt dream up for you.... mere Devon Clots think theyre Queen of the gib .... nope you have to learn via the worst Utterly most Utter places ... how to truly end humanity.....as she sure had we c an see for your infotainment nope dont be Cyclopos it dinee end well..... and someone persisted even her/him and just made his bed..... soon)
back to yestertfat inabit a man has to eat his brecky
