That swinging news has Kranked up nightmares
THE KRANKIES were swingers. The Krankies were swingers. The Krankies were swingers.
No matter how many times you say it, it still feels wronger than spying on a nun having a sh*t.
If you told me next door’s cat was a demon from Hell with designs on eating my soul, I doubt I’d be more appalled.
Imagine watching someone with very bad, broken teeth chewing on polystyrene. That’s the sort of shudder that went down the Deano spine when I saw the incomprehensible news.
Around this time of year, when I was a nipper, it was hard to get to sleep – such was my excitement at Christmas approaching.
Now I dare not sleep, for fear of the dreams that may come. The horror…the horror!