[size=150]with Udder Butter[/size]
and Bag Balm
, hand made MooGoo
on cowpat fritters
aka "moo pies
smiling at me
(Wossat? No [size=200]"[/size]?
), nothing but moo
recirculate amongst amongst
a monks amongst
drunk monkeys dancing
in rancid trances
. The Gods laughed
, farted and partied
; parted seas prestidigitally
whilst kneading dough
, tuning in Tokyo
Rose’s apocryphal propaganda
.
Bandy the panda