Q: Name the four seasons.
A: Salt, pepper, mustard and vinegar.
Q: In a democratic society, how important are elections?
A: Very important. Sex can only happen when a male gets an election.
Q: What happens to a boy when he reaches puberty?
A: He says goodbye to his boyhood and looks forward to his adultery.
Q: What is the Fibula?
A: A small lie.
Q: Use the word “judicious” in a sentence to show you understand its meaning.
A: Hands that judicious can be soft as your face.
Q: What does the word “benign” mean?
A: Benign is what you will be after you be eight.
Originally uploaded by Keith ‘Broch’.
Bunny on left: “Shall we dance?”
Bunny on right: “Lettuce.”
Bunny on left should also know that Bunny on right loves Bunny on right very much. But not as much as he loves Bunny left. Oh no. In fact he’s hopping crazy over Bunny on left.
Bunny on right: “Kisses and my paws around you.”
Bunny on left: “Oh go on then.”
A fuck, a coffee, a shower and a back rub. A shower, fried egg muffin and still time to email and text you. And I wrote a note for the milkman.
I got to Kennington – worried about frying pan/hob situation. Went home. Decided to sweep snow off decking. Cat came out with me – only going on the non-snowy bits, obviously. ‘Til he was on shed roof and mewed pathetically. Didn’t understand, “Well you got up there your self, stupid.” Eventually made it down.
Halfway down Clapham Road realised I hadn’t checked hob so went back. It was fine.
HELLO HELEN STOP ELIZABETH R HERE STOP
CONGRATULATIONS AGAIN STOP YOU MUST BE BORED OF GETTING THESE FROM ME STOP STILL I CAN CLAIM THAT DAMEHOOD WAS FIRST OF MANY STOP
QUESTION STOP IF I GAVE YOU THE CROWN WOULD YOU LET ME KEEP THE OSCAR? STOP I DID THINK IT WAS A BIT CHEEKY THAT YOU PULLED OUT YOUR REMARKS FROM AN ENVELOPE WITH ‘QUEEN’S SPEECH’ ON IT STOP
PHILIP SAYS HELLO (WHAT HE ACTUALLY SAID WAS ‘PHWOAR!’) STOP CORGIS NEED FEEDING I NEED A GIN STOP SEE YOU AT THE NEXT GARDEN PARTY STOP YOURS MRS KING STOP
I was standing by the front door, belt undone, left hand on the Yale.
She came out of the shower, long chestnut hair damp, short towel falling off her breasts, left hip jutting out; two sets of lips engorged.
She reached up, placed her hands around my neck and kissed me long, hard and passionately, like the way that she had in the bar the night before. We’d been kicked out.
“When shall I call you?”, I asked.
“I’ll call you,” she said.
I smiled. “No, seriously. When do you want to go out?”
“I’ll call you.”
She never did.