in Every Street that morning. Because beside the tempestuousness of Robin's killing spree somehow the arterial spray from his suicide shot to his left temple changed course after leaving the hole in his head, curving in space not only to the right but also forward and landing on his right shoe while at the same time depositing directly onto the alcove curtain, but nobody could figure that out except forensic experts and a Christchurch Jury. What a twister for the sisters.
I'd like to express special thanks to nina_s, goobergolf, dogpalkal, rodney osook and all the departed moronic counterfeit explanations of themselves. Jolly good, spot on and all that. Farewell, it's been good to know you. One thing that has become apparent is that a general solution for the sisters main problem, fat butts and loneliness, could well be relieved by localised starvation of their fat bottoms. How about bottom suction into an enormous empty reservoir the size of Lake Taupo? Bottoms up and all that. Cheerio.
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