We went to Disney with the kids this summer.
Carefully combing out his favoris with a broken comb and greasing them with perfumed pomade flat over his sunken cheekbones, he fairly wriggled with his new sense of security and bodily comfort.
On the other hand, it was just as probable that these comings and goings, these lockings and unlockings, might be attributable to the existence of some private responsibility, which had unexpectedly intruded itself into the old man's easy existence...
Mr. Kenneth Clarke: Oh, tish tish. That’s utterly pre-Pappa-You-Done-Yo-Sugar-Mama-Wrong-poserous. [general laughter] Oh, I see. Ka-boom tish. A joke. Very good, splap splap but seriously, wabbeda wabbeda look. All the political cats and catesses know me. I’m a moderate. I’m not from the hanging and flog bog ga-dogging wing of the party.
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