Hey hey, thanks Rochelle and thanks Adam Ickes for the photograph, its a photo with many connotations, which i’m sure will be revealed in this fantastic club we are all members of. Good luck everyone, i’ll be in the bath.
Christ, I must have dozed off. It’s Christmas and all and what with all the excitement and tedium of wrapping presents on the floor, my knees aching, surrounded by spent rolls of paper and sellotape. So here it is, this weeks effort, the final hurrah before the chaos of the 25th. Which is when the next FF will be set, I’m assuming. I reckon I may be able to get in earlier then…
Mr and Mrs Spratt had a spat over the fat and lean issue, he found the plate licking perpetually revolting; his Dad did it after a Sunday roast, holding his plate up to his face and spilling gravy all over his bristly chin, he hated this.
Jack had discovered a Rancherías on the Modoc Plateau; there his interest in shamanism had blossomed as had his fondness for ayahuasca.
Enjoying an Epiphany he refused meat and became a fruitarian, only eating what fell from the tree. Cotton was fine, leather boots were not, as he stumbled off barefoot into the forest.
Yeah yeah yeah, 100 big ones.Happy Christmas you fantastic Friday fictioneers, its Saturday and I’m breaking the rules.