Sunday, January 31, 2010

22:07 Prompts

Deadline 23:45

Pints of beer and warmed up shandies


Someone has died at number ninety-five

The alternatives were ghoulish

The Man from the Pru is chasing Mrs Evans

The wood vibrates

Three tanner doubles and a treble on some mares

We could marry down the Reggie, so we did

Well we knew that we were foolish

You said you did not love me, but there was the kid


A Small War, Far Away

After They Leave

And a boy at fifty-two has an odd disease

And a packet of ready-salted or a pie

And Ron from seventeen is in Cardiff for debts


Bloody Beethoven

But Robert Wakeham went to nick for twenty years


Dad borrowed a quid from Mam, went to the Gaer

Dance like you are going to die tomorrow

Enough left for The Sporting Life and just about four pints

February, March, Late

Forced smiles on a hundred pink-faced women

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