Well I'm sick of theaters, my local one has started doing a season of Shakespeare's plays featuring Jonathon King.
But he's taken to staring at me with binoculars from his car.
I said I'm so tired of your "King's Lear,"
He said the cars not my problem, he rents it you need to speak to "The 2 gentlemen who own her,"
Any way he said we was too busy with his company that made high class dildos,
oh you're
"A merchant of penis,"
He replied yes but getting the sizing was hard as he was going for "Measure for pleasure," it was so much easy easier when he made spicy flavoured bum holes for the French market, I agreed there was much more money in,
"Curried la anus,"
But he offered me a number for getting rid of King, it was a team of brummies who used fast grwoing edible plants to make cars uninahbitable they said on the phone,
"Troi us, for cress, an idea,"
they suggested, they were going to help but their secretary told me they were too depressed with ken losing the election,
"Love labour's lost,"
She said.
Though she had a friend who beleived in the body's abbility to heal it's self who could let me borrow some seeds (called Julie)
"Homeo Julie could let,"
or was she a lesbian I forget.
Mind you I thought I should speak to my friend who was in the Clash, about if this was a good idea, he had prophetic visions in his sleep they came from his abdomen apparently, I needed
"A mid Joe Strummers night dream,"
But my ambitions were put on hold, when I was with a friend, and we were assualted by a tramp who bit us and insulted us in a droning voice. I siad to the police,
"He bite us, and drone, and cus,"