UP UP & AWAY IN MY BEAUTIFUL SPANDAU BALLET
IF WE WEREN’T ”AROUND, " WHAT WOULD BE? Think about your liver. Can you feel it? Does it ever hurt? What the heck is it doing in there? With a good imagination and a little Baudelaire, you can explain your spleen away— but trying to get comfortable with your liver is enough to give you an ulcer.
UP UP & AWAY IN MY BEAUTIFUL SPANDAU BALLET
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Annene Kaye G.
IF WE WEREN’T ”AROUND, " WHAT WOULD BE?
Think about your liver. Can you feel it? Does it ever hurt? What the heck is it doing in there? With a good imagination and a little Baudelaire, you can explain your spleen away— but trying to get comfortable with your liver is enough to give you an ulcer. Do you talk about it with your nearest and dearest? No? Oh well you can't go through life with a "love me, love my liver" attitude...and besides, it's usually best to let sleeping livers lie. Consider the pleasures of alcohol consumption: eliminate the brain cell factor (because I think people drink with intent to kill those suckers) and concentrate on the truly unspeaWble things it does to your you-know-whatter. Gross.
Think that's dumb? That's not dumb. This is dumb: "So I Pekin' walks up to him and Pekin' tells the Pcker to Pck off!" (if asterisks are good enuff for Eleganza, they're good enuff for me).
DELIVER US FROM EVIL