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cornish phallus

cornish phallus


hiked for 7 miles, in the drizzle, along the coast and back, to gribbin head, from fowey

sons complaining all the way

powered by chocolate fudge and mr. kittows steak and stilton cornish pasties.

i met an old man with something long in a bag on his shoulder.

'is that a spear gun?', i asked

'no...ur...yes', he said sheepishly

'oh, i wish i'd met you earlier: i've been having a reet nightmare threading my open muzzle OMER"


mr bunny is knackered

as am i, but i am prosecco infused

will have to walk the hill to walk back up it again: dinner at the lugger

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billy idle (sic)

billy idle (sic)


why DO we go on holiday without our children sometimes?