“Now… with my face tripping me, I trundle and stravaig wearily behind Mrs Bastard, and Mrs Bastard’s mammy. My houghs are aching, my arms fair pulled out of their oxter’s, carrying shopping bags the equivalent in weight of a Volkswagen under each arm. My mooth being drier than the watering holes of the Sudan. My bank balance lighter than a ballerinas fart, I am continuing to rue my words woefully.”

Unfortunately that image and delightful prose came from a now-defunct website authored by Jimmy Bastard. We proudly resurrect it for your enjoyment on
The Overnight Open Thread.