DON’T GO THERE
Rollo, the roofer, while taking a leaker, fell also of the rafters. He’s suffered amnesia, along with feeling kind of queesia.
Then he tripped to the South, rippling was laughter, gunning the motor, and running his mouth.
You see, when he slipped, his mind got sort of ripped. I’ll not funnin’ you, and you can quoter me. Rollo, (Do you follow?) came down to Dixie, but not just for a look-see.
He thinks he’s Sarah Keither – Sutherland, that is, and our Rollo’s no whiz. Because that is, he assumed Keither Sutherland should live in the down-under-motherland.
I mean, in the South.
You seem down-in-the-mouth. You are acting doomed, as if you’re a impacted, and now have no room.
You say a I’m unseemly, that I’m making you gloomy, and treating you mainly,
I don’t mean to digress, but, truthfully, you might appreciate my largesse. Not any charges press? It’s not me that you hate. You should be overjoyed!
It’s O. K.-I’ll untie you to-day. I’ll feed you some cheese, and you can leave when you please.
You are merely distressed, I have guessed, and feeling churlier because to your earlier fixation with Freud you must have regressed.
Bon-jour, bon-am; with blessed anticipation, you may now go to your Toyota, and complete your quota of eating Total and O-meal in a state of total disassociation while making a mess all over the nation.
I’ll see you in Bellevue, and visit you there, too.