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Friday, 20 February 2015

In which the A of the F is beatified...

He even stopped on the way home to purchase, or otherwise acquire, a plethora of cans of soup various and some ice cream.
'Why so?' One hears you enquire, Dear Reader.
Well, tis like this...
The worst bit of the whole twinkle excavation incident was the aftermath of the tube what they bunged down me throat.
In fact, One coughed and wheezed in the manner of a forty a day Woodbiner and sounded like a Harley Davidson starting up to the extent that the concerned Anesthetist ran back into theatre to make sure he hadn't lugged out a chunk of lung.
'You don't smoke do you?' Says he.
'Not usually,' countered One, 'but I've been droking and sminking like a good 'un since all this began.'
Any road up, One shall reform One's ways forthwith, since 'twould appear One shall survive the passing of a few more moons.
Prior to the removal of Boy's evil twin, BF paid One a visit armed with a delightful posy of evergreens plucked that very morning from her estate.
One, showing off about the tender care delivered by the A of the F, piped up...
'He has even bought me a book to read whilst I'm awaiting excavation.'
'What is it?' enquired she.
'A cookery book,' says One.
This tickled BF, since she has long been on the receiving end of One's culinary disasters.
Does One care a jot?
No, One does not, and plans to spend all eternity perfecting the art in order to please the A of the F.
Today, all being well we are following the hunt. It is the Meet of Mrs Lovely Family.
'Mr Lovely has just messaged me to ask how you are,' said the A, 'and I have had to report that you are doing well, but unfortunately yer gob' s still operational.'
Oh well, I'll let him have that one on One. After all he is the best person I have ever known.

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