Jools, do you need to ask?
Sheila, you don't think my ideas are for free do you, when there are people being paid to do this? Don't think so! In mitigation, I knew a horrible advertising copywriter once, the most despicable plagiarist I ever met - even won a contract courtesy of a line taken from the mouth of his daughter and took the prize without acknowledgment, a backward glance or so much as a new Barbie Doll. I divorced him some time later.
Jools, call me a loser and we're back to that bar, zimmers at closing! The only stripy woolly jumper seen on my back is that earlier today which started it's life black (permanently in mourning for me life, always in black but sometimes slinky given the right inducement - actually it just makes me look like I like what I see in the mirror in a bad light) and courtesy of a loose-tooped blender I became a little retro crimplene, stripy, maiden in texture and colour. Well, you wouldn't even bother washing it would you - I put it with the rubbish that had fallen onto the floor out of the bag readied for the bin and which I tripped over in my haste to switch off the blender! Now, I knew slut; just like Mum used to tell me when I painted my toe nails scarlet and shiny. My kitchen was a slut! I saw in a moment exactly her vision - blast from the past.
The only time I'll be saying 'kick me hard' you can guarantee I'll be wearing black and slinky - and we ain't talking bin bag..........more your reinforced garden type of sack jobby only in black....and I'll be doin' the orderin'.
Why go see Iris. Come see Mrs Pumblechook, my mother - we wrote the movie that's why we don't want to see it. But every little helps. As for Father Ted: is father Jack not the quintessential (don't believe I'm saying quintessential, bare with me) anarchist, the ruling body that becomes AD. And actually, yes, I do know he was a raving alchoholic (see aforementioned copywriter).
Jack and Victor and their 'leckie'. Can you send them to me because I have oil fired central heating and perhaps they could start a little gulf war of their own. I love them already, why don't we have them down here. And so, you unstripy, dare to be chic and upbeat carer, you, yes you! you mean they drink in your pub? the pub holding the zimmeradiators fest? Do you think they would? Could we hope they might? I'll buy the next 42 rounds of whatever! Right fingers on the black humour button, if you ask me, which you didn't, but anyway..........when can we come to your pub and when can we see them on the box down our end? ..........and, She, could you let me have some of the apple wine for my kitchen tiles, I'm worn out domestos goddessin', particulary in this slinky, UNSTRIPED, number! Fake fur mattin' is not a breeze to clean - can I claim compensation for trauma by blender at the hands of AS? Is there life after........................
You are all just incredible me thinks and on this one I'm not even qualifying it, you are all incredible, peeeeeeeeeeeeeersonlly speakin'.
Yours with the big cheek and much love
Chesca