Shut Up Jas, You Are Not Baby

You Are Not Ashamed Of Our Luuurve, Are You, Jas?' 'look, Shut Up, People Might Hear.' 'what Do You Mean, The People Who Live In The Telephone?

Here Is My Recipe For A Mood Enhancer. Take A Friend, Preferably One With A Really Annoying Fringe And Outsize Pants, And When She Is Rambling On Swiftly, Push Her Into A Ditch And Run Away.

This Soft Grass Suggests 'softness' To Me, But Also At The Same Time 'lying-down-ness'.

He Came Over And Ruffled My Hair, Which Is Technically Assault. I Could Get On The Blower To Childline.

I Will Not Have Him In My Brain;there Is No Room For Anyone Else In The Cakeshop Of Agony. It's Crowded Enough In There Already.