We coffee’d in a park, we found a stream and pond for lunch and for Mike Roberts to shoot Stanley’s siphoning water and sort of bumped and lazed along on roads with Brete Hart and Mark Twain names.

Some vehicles are more rattle-free than others.

I cannot visit Hide-Park every day, And with a Hackney court my time away; I cannot Spaniolize it week by week, Or wait a month to kisse your hand or cheek; If when you'r lov'd, you cannot love again, Why, doe but say so, I am out of pain.

a casketless funeral plan