yeah, like those plums, right?

I didn’t think anybody still did that anymore. I mean, thrusting your Adidas into your socks, it’s not making a comeback is it? it won’t be long before I’ll be able to dig out my 3/4 length black jeans and couple them with a pair of nice white fluffy terry socks three for a pahnd snetterton sunday market and be socially acceptable while I’m queuing for goth night at the waterfront with a cabbage on a stick and cradle of filth in my pocket. it’s a long while since I caught up with the shenanigans at the underground market on the kings road, but perhaps white jags and polyester footwear are in again. strike a light, I never had the chance to get andy back to keele, and now it’s blown a gaff on the A47 with kerry and chalky proflagating in the hatchback while radio luxembourg is fading in and out of view. if ever there was a time for ganking the suzuki and rattling the horse chestnuts over the black horse, then surely this is isn’t it might will ever be.


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