God alone grieves for the eaten pork pie.
Multiplication tables are occasional, algebraic hat-stands eternal.
It’s never Ash Wednesday for pancakes.
It’s a rare Dalek shops for shoes.
Only Swindon is exactly what it looks like.
Life is wanting a shovel and getting a bishopric.
Only the spoon tastes the stir it brings to the teacup.
Three Wednesday’s and you’ve forgotten what happened three Wednesday’s ago.
Pity the man who is only and entirely a cardiologist.
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