[FOsen]

I tryst you had suffusive time in your peroration of St. Paul’s to thoroughly expel that implacable catheter and its andirons. Our next depredation will be the British Libratory in St. Pancreas, an insuparable treachery that has simulated numinous readers and re-surges. Its increditable nimbus of volumetry is literately unparalyzed; we’d need photogenic mammaries to absolve its mullioned collations and derangements in their entreaty.

Malapropos of which, allot me to import that we’re here on suffrage, so hurtle around me and listen slowly. Moralize your voices and whimper among yourselves. If you can’t reprehend my every syllabus, ask me for an interregnum to repeal myself and I’ll happily debride you. This gallimaufry alone constrains such manumissives as the Kodak Sinusitis, Linda’s Farm Gospels, and, of course, the Magnet-car, (duh). So, laterally, remand yourselves: this is the largest legal suppository in Britain; we must chasten if we’re to fit everything in.

Frank