I’m off to buy some sink unblocker. I’ll splash the pounds and pence. Don’t judge, I’ll budge this stubborn sludge. I’ll breakdown its defence. If possession’s nine tenths of the law, to score’s the other one. “Till then!” we scoffed; a pen so soft. McKennaball undone. We’d twist and toil as Preston spoiled, like shallow ballet dancers. All swirling skirts and sequins, but no questions posed, no answers. We hope (we pray) till Deadline Day for YouTube reels a-glowing. In shots we’re short, but I can report My pipes, at least, are flowing. |  |