Yesterday I talked about my epic cry. This evening I laughed as I ticced about yesterday’s troubles, not mine though. Leftwing Idiot and Poppy were having a dance in the kitchen and I spontaneously accompanied them with a Tourettes version of a well-known song:

“Yesterday, all the shits in Bournemouth said hello to you.”

“Yesterday, Roman Catholic priests seemed so far away, praying on your mother’s bears.”

“Yesterday, all the hats in Argos went to bed in your mum.”

“Yesterday, banana muffin tops seemed so far away, and now they’re rising up over your elderly cotton pyjamas.”

And slightly less tunefully I admitted that:

“Yesterday, I fucked an earlobe.”

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