My luv affair with this seasons English strawberry is nearly over,i have just prepared the possibly the last punnet i will buy,for some things i am thick in the trousers, sticking to the well defined seasons,hot crossed buns is also one of those thick trousers for you can buy them now any which way,which is the same with strawberries imported from some hot house where the flavour stays in the roof of the hot house or perhaps the gargoyles eat the best and that old tale that the English will eat any old shit still holds water and thus shipped over here they are..
French Cafe songs are on the turntable down stairs echoing upwards yet not to distracting to stop me from sitting back and not wandering across the keys.
I find the french accent most lust full,i imagine what if it went with a big cock..ha...or for that matter a giant pair of inflatable tits i could swing beneath perhaps i could tie a comfortable chair too and sail away not too worried about air fares with inflated fuel payments..personally the gentlemen who is playing the stock market sending up prices in leaps..prey sir..let my evil out, whilst i put a petrol pump oohhh up your starfish..would i light the blue touch paper perhaps i would.