SNATCHES OF TINSEL
Ah yes, it was a doctor in the audience I was going to tell you about, who suddenly ejaculated, "Bollix!" at the end of the lecture. Facultative defensives on full blast.
Bob Wod summons the mental devils that badger Stuart Hill and surroundings. What was the best book of last year, oh awesome dame? Disease, now there's a big tragedy, said Mr Wod, and not that easy for me to get used to. Speak for yourself.
Embroiled in my ration and Spanish rice, high above the Bishop of Uberflutey, in a cocktail party futzed-out whiskey-wash, and all in the name of Uncle Judd, I read them the fucking riot act.