In a moment of pandering populism, and because working is preventing me from riding and writing, I’ve gone with a line from each of the barely started nonsense.

I once wrote down a erstwhile thesis on farting. All my work since then has been on the decline. It was the standard for grading based on smell, sound, length and pitch. Included in the many sub groups and derivatives were the ESF, the vegetable, the kamikaze and the trumpet.

* The answer of course is neither. Get meat paste you pretentious knobber.

He looked at me strangely and told me that I should thank my lucky stars there was even a platform. Until 1997, you merely threw themselves at a passing train and – if you were lucky – got hauled in by the other passengers.

Unless performance drinking counts. Opionion is divided I think it does, everyone else disagrees.

Er’s unked and purgy, wuzzy wench.

If you continue to be unkind, I’ll go and sulk behind option 6. Then who’ll be sorry eh? Well me obviously and nobody else would give a monkey’s trunk. I think I have made a very important point there 😉

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