How a Man Crumbled



-- They say all the best tarts are fat-arsed. Gee-ee, I really like
busty tarts, I love the way they smell.
Having said this, he started to increase in height and, upon reaching
the ceiling, he crumbled into a thousand little pellets. The yard-keeper
Panteley came, swept all these pellets up into his scoops in which he
usually picked up the horse muck, and he carried these pellets away
somewhere to the back yard.
And the sun continued to shine as ever and splendiferous ladies
continued to smell just as ravishingly as ever.

1936

--
Jos te tulitte tänne jonku haku sivun kautta niin minkä laitit hakusanaksi?
Meinaan vaan et mää tulin ja hakusana oli HEVOSET!