|
TOOT
I think I will stick to the Four Bells, nasty drinks of aniseed remind me of the liquorice water of my youth. A murky brown liquid bespeckled with crumbs.
Just to make sure of the right turn, I'll stand on the bridge wing and hang my shirt over the side on the end of a broom stick.
__________________
Buvez toujours, mourrez jamais.
Rabelais
|