They were firing on all Wallanders

He sees whether birds have caps like pens.. it’s a living….but what a living!

An infidel brace is handy to keep the Fascists off one’s brain

I fell off my own plate into the saucy pan and he licked me out

A few bricks were shy but became looser as the night bored on

We were a few flies short of a happy meal but loved the beetles in brandy and the frogs in breeeze sauce

Chew sandwiches unless short of a tooth peg…then dip them in your wine and suck

A fickle finger grabbed my plate.It was the dentist at bay

I am fifty fifty and fifty next wreak.

They fight like cats and dogs… you must be bloking

I had my Figaro out when the inspector knocked..oh,oh

Filthy and rich… they save on hot water and soap,you see

The judge fined the brandy and then drank it as well

Fine swine? Have they any money?

What fine line of poetry… the boy trod in the burning dreck.You must speak Yiddish as it’s a dying tongue now,alas!

He’s much finer than a blogger can bear to hear

They were firing on all Wallanders..

The first things cursed were ham and bacon.God hates frying pans and washing up greasy stuff

Wish for cultic states? What do I mean?I am more clever than I can blunderstand which makes me stupid,if you catch my lift.

Published by Katherine