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I used to live next door to a pair of elderly naturists, only finding out about their hobby when they bade me a cheerful, saggy 'Hello' while I was 25 feet up a ladder repairing the chimney. Luckily, a bush broke my fall, but the memory of a fat, naked man in an ill-fitting wig will live with me forever.
( , Thu 1 Oct 2009, 12:41)
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...but it could have been sadder. What with the freaky purple colour he used to turn, and all the popping, throbbing veins that went with it, I used to really worry that he would drop down dead in the street. So, no visitors, but no sad death in the gutter either : )
( , Tue 6 Oct 2009, 22:00, closed)
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