Friends? Out? With? Some? Let me smell your breath. I thought so! Chips! Where are my chips?! Look at your clothes, they're all rumpled. What have you been doing? Is that lipstick on your beard?! Here I am, worrying myself away into a stick, in the dark, and you're scoffing chips in some tart's lap. Where's my tart?! I want chips and tart! Get up them stairs!
Don’t ask questions, just do it! And clean this place up it’s a disgrace. And boil my eye bath, and polish the stair rods, de-louse the duvets, and tumble dry our doyleys, and hoover the roof and whistle down the chimneys.
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laughing at it.
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I call this one the worm saluting the sun
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