Populated with batrachian behemoths of ill-temper, bad attitudes and lack of manners. Shoving past in Martyn's walkaround store to get at the dildos and inflatable sheeps.
Frequented by the lumbering munterscent troll life in their camel-hooved leggings so sheer you can read the label upon their humongous lacey patterned pants.
Home of the Pretties whom stalk The Xym, calling him The Cool Dude as they repeatedly pass by with girly grins and wavey arms.
Town of the ill-stocked shopkeep, who 'only yesterday' sold the last of the fare that Fatboy Xym always partakes of for luncheon upon the seafront! Grrrrr!
Even Dagon of the Deep conspires to deny Xym a lunch of The Lard, as if hinting that even Fate thinks he's a great fat porker who could do with a few less suety dinners.
Oh well, a carvery it is then!
Well, a sliver of turkey awash with Paxo on an overlarge baguette appears to be the web-fingered denizens idea of a carvery.
Feed that Dusty Bin!
At least I got to sit on the seafront and
But at least I returned back for Sexy Sewage-Curtailed to provide me with new telecommunicative device!
