My scouse Biffa (not Bacon) the game it was Mo Leica carnivore: e.g the viper-ant Calor: there was a gas Ba loons, the darned Singh: a jumpin’ Jackson japes infanta the teemin’ an’, in rat troll speck, fume venereal black bus, the smock bums: that was MeanWhore an’ his plastic Jacky an’ raze-less sickly stubborn stubble stumblin’ like Blair-y eyed Trump, he was the gait crusher offal thyme an’ Efan Moyes so than Ceramic Fu@ism itself (yes, the JawDumb Hinduson creed teak, Ki pup adder bag!) it shat all’d over the potty Amos-Fear, that “See you Jimmy“ joker Mr Rust Abu so love in him smashed tit: he one it more uglier than Ms Ballon Hamburg…RANTS SABU PUNDIT.
To coat you Mr Charred Decking off the Nineteeth sanctuary “It was the bastard thymes it was the worsted times 10”, an’ all bear hind the bore: what a jock, how lairy hearse: such heaped pork Razzie. Libpole she Hufty an’ poof yet the BigBagged Woof an’ waffen off maths destruction, the Mr Loose Wires, he kid not blow the Blix House down: he was Ham-ass-curated by ‘em an’ there Big Spam Alan Dice tag ticks. Butt Libpole she mitre plaid till Diouf’s Day but thems was more in-penile-trouble than a Chaz-titty belt.
Howl offal, 'ow beta, is them iron knees! It were a mess-Carrick of joss sticks (it Hertz!) that this punishment of Ian Dury time, for waist titch, shod proof to the banner fit off the gilty party: it only surfs to gold the inner cent patsies. THIS is a brokered Britain Part XX innit, an’ the Dali Mail should print in on the frontal cover, toot sweets, in them Bomburstic style.
An’ yet, despise this Podge-grease snake in are carton of Eton, Libpole, though skooled, seps at adder the class. Mange Suttee are fired up, save Ray, but them Ratched wreck-ought at Goddardson Park Liza sauce pigeon that Toffos hold injun sign: you inhabit Cuckoo land if reckon them a Chief the title: my dear scouse they ain’t one Jack THANK YOU VERY MUCH.
