Goog tok "For the th M. program."

Bar is a bar, code is a hot Topic by the end of the World For a Fiver: guest list guests at did did,
Did did you ever think of me by NICK Lachey,
I am tired of being Alone by Al Green,
Released CALL ME in the Morning.
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For the th M. program.

Poem Wonker2

The hill to run to the bottom really calm puppy,
Quickly which to go as from the pistons your small legs are.
That falls being,
Not to reinforce however and align.

Poem Wonker1

Can't we believe in the wind under our feet?
It precipitates, precipitates to precipitate and,
As a horse incredibly fast that which is late for a meeting,
And an important great man there that which can be impressed is.

Woob

Woob is an amazing substance. You can hammer a nail in to it or hammer it with a hammer. The only down side is the cost. About 50 persnacks per square meter. I buy mine at B and Q because I like their adverts on the telly. However their store is terrible, the floors are unclean, the shelves disorganised, some of the shelving looks like it were put oop by a mooontain lion. I was going to put an exclamation point after the word lion but I decided not to!

Last week I bought a thousand square metres of woob. I hammered nails into it using a hammer. I then hung my coat up on my lovely new coat hanger.

Space, there’s a funny thing now, it is neither up nor down. I prefer to say nup nor down. Space is very similar to the moustachioed gent, the Grand Old Duke of York. A spelling error had that as The Grand Old Duck of York. A common fallacy about the Grand Old Duke of York is that he had 10,000 men. He really had 8 men. One was called Larry. Another was called Harry. Surprisingly there was no Barry. There was a Xarrinko from Barrinko. Back to the list, another guy was called Guy. Another guy was called Warpo. Another guy had a really interesting name, that name was Alagrano Granalago, to make it easier for the others he shortened it to Alagrano Granalag. There was this other bloke called Deemer. He was nothing to do with The Grand Old Duke of Yorks men but I thought I should mention him.

I could tell that the lady didn’t like me because of her severe hair cut. It weren’t quite man hair but was close enough. She had a severe man face and wore mens clothing. Her name was either Sam, Chris, Lesley or Jamie. I can’t remember which ooh oooh oooh I remember what it was now.

Horses eh? I am slightly scared of them. Especially when they dress up as g-g-g-g-ghosts and leap out at you and say “WOOOOOH” in a wibbly wobbly shakey voice. Horses have hooves. That’s a known fact. What isn’t a know fact is ……

Horses eh? Horses for courses. Does that saying refer to a course of medication? I don’t really understand. Booohooohooo, woooohoooohooo abble abble.

A fantastic world, with giant buildings that are robots. They are totally independent. You could go to work and come home to find that your robot house has wandered off! There would be a big space where it used to be or there could be another robot building in it’s place. If you weren’t paying attention you could walk into someone elses house. You would think that would be embarrassing but on this planet they do not know the word “embarrassed”. They know the word “EeeeekBalleeee” which roughly translated means embarrassed, or beans, depending on which dialect you use.

Barping, that is the name of the world that I was just talking about. It is part of a binary system or something. There is a quasar nearby. It lights up the sky like a quasar should and makes all the people and adibals act odd. Adibal is their word for animal. Adibals live in houses sometimes and people live on farms and in zoos. Then a big important man with a twirly moustache blows a whistle and honks a hooter and the people and adibals swap round. This can sometimes be inconvenient and cause arguments to arise, generally though it all goes surprisingly smoothly.

Confusion, now there’s something that happens. They say that the universe is a big bundle of confusion. Scientists have recently discovered a new element which they have named fonfusion. So the universe is a big bundle of confusion and fonfusion. There is a small area in the Alpha Quadrant in Star Trek that is all fonfusion. This area is known as the Tree Zone and nobody goes there except for Alan.

Alan is a scientist oh yeah! A scientist and-he-has-spiky-hair.

I need the recipe of chicken tikka filling for sandwiches. I have searched the internooot but can only find places that sell chicken tikka sandwiches or sell filling for chicken tikka sandwiches. I would also like to know how Chinese takeaways make the gravy for their chips and gravy. It’s tasty. Now and again you get a bizarre Chinese takeaway that just uses Bisto! That’s always disheartening and leads me to believe that a European is doing the cooking.

I fly high like a rocket in the sky, this is because I am a rocket.

I sit inside a garden shed, it is dark (meaning there is darkness, I don’t mean the shed is dark. The shed is a rustic red colour and quite jaunty). There are noises outside the shed. I can’t quite make out what it is at first. I eventually recognise the noise as a jet engine. I decide that a garden shed isn’t the best place to be when a jet engine is so close. I open the door a crack, I see nothing. I fling open the door and make a run for it.

Who knows what it’s all about? Nobody I would think. It’s not about anything. That’s what I presume anyway. Folk are just reading too much in to it, as per usual.

Olive, khaki, green, brown, fawn (faun?), these are all colours. Some people use those colours in things that they make. Ferrari is not a big fan of these colours. They like red. At interviews’ prospective employees are tested for their reaction to the colour red. That’s why you don’t get many bulls working at Ferrari.

Monkery

Coat hooks. Put them up on the wall. Don’t put coats on them all. Leave a few spaces. Throw coats in the cupboard.
Sad End. A depressing place to live. The sun never shone, everyone was grey. The talk was of how miserable everything was. All conversations were of a pessimistic nature. One day, a small child planted some flower seeds. Several weeks later they bloomed into the most beautiful, colourful display. It didn’t make a jot of difference.
Driving the van was excellent. His arm was out of the window, the radio tuned to Radio Jolly. He had one more delivery to make and it was only 2:30. He would be home by 3.

The rain poured down. At some point it was bound to stop. Tin roof. Harry didn’t have a tin roof. He had a putting green in his living room. It was gnarly. But not nearly gnarly enough. He would build a ramp at each end and ramp over the green on his BMX. Radical.

The Russion space station was as big as 10 football fields. Vladimir Vodak quite liked being onboard, sometimes he would look out of the porthole into the black, deadly, empty void. Sometimes he wished that someone would swim past the window and this thought made him laugh. Doktor Vadlinky watched Vladimir on the tele/audio system. Vlad was laughing to himself again and looking into space. Should he put sedatives into the guys’ food? Was that moral? Moral? What WAS moral? If they said anything he would sedate them all and then eject them into space, hahahaha.

Ramlinov read Vadlinky’s report about Vodak’s behaviour “space madness”. “Sounds like space madness to me”

The supermarket had a lot of tins in it. Bang would like to try and steal some tins by making a specially converted trolley. He knew he would need mirrors, magnets and a grabbing arm but other than that the plan was not fully formed. He purchased a mig welder as he felt sure he would need one of those. He didn’t have a welding mask but was sure that a balaclava would do instead.

How can anyone stand to walk in the rain? It’s ghastly!
“Crikey Bongos!” Cried Artisan Chope “that’s the 14^th time that Bangly Ongo has leapt off the bridge into the river. He’s a bridge jumpin’ nut.
The blue shirt was quite nice. He picked it out himself. There was a blue one, a green one and an orange one and he picked the blue one. He would wear the orange one tomorrow.

Where in the world can you get such a service huh? Huh? Only a here.
The time has come to write the final chapter of this tribute to Monkery. To sum up; Monkery was a big pile of rubbish. It never existed and even if it did I couldn’t care less about it.
To sum up; Monkery was one of THE best things about living in the 18^th Century. Monkery was bright. Monkery was cheerfull, Monkery was forward thinking, Monkery was efficient.
Sunning myself on top of a city building on a scorching hot day was pleasant. The smell of melting tar was the smell track for the summer.

The argument continued. Should they go to Morocco or carry on to Italy.

Parnaby

Water water every bear and dot a dot to dink, comma.