| Robson revving negatoriously Testing your eyes’ geometric abalone Ceres strays to the recalcitrant cavy - tactfully she faces away. Your ebonic concorde bell covers cereal bourbon, gassing biscuit showers, the radio on soon returning from sabbaticals. The effeminate bin is seen heaving finished television mofos and hyssop songs near the venerable rejoinder. |
 'I've got some tea bags that make the tea taste a bit like Ryvita..' 'No angst, no worries - just a guy by his motorcycle that is falling gently down' |
