There I was 3am one morning.Contemplating the voids of the universal significance of karmic ideological realities and what to do with the bushpig sleeping beside me.I found it hard to think with the grunting sounds echoing throughout the Delica.Anyway I couldn't have known she'd turn out to be 15 stone with a passion for leotards.It was only after she had brought my tehth straight double jack daniels,that she began to look like Jen Hawkins doing ballet lessons.O my god,She was beginning to roll over.My life flash before my eyes in a contiuous video entitled "SEX,SURF and more SURf."I had to think fast,before being suffocated in a mountain of jelly blubber and buried alive.I found her name tattooed under her left tit,so decided to write her a letter then grab my board and go for a surf,as the first rays sunshine began to reflect off the hairs in her nose,I started scribbling on her size 38dd bra.
Dearest Agnes
My love for you,is stronger than a good glass job.My passion for you,runs as deep as a fin chop.Yet our love can never be ,for you deserve far ,far,far better than me.So go my dearest Anges for i cannot bare to say goodbye.Yet as long as the waves keep pumping and the shipments of buddha keep coming,you will live in my short term memory.
Farewell Agnes
signed john smith
p.s. don't for get to lock the van