I know they say bread and milk, but what they really mean is bread, milk, and beer.
Out of it steps our future, through this door
Enigmas, executioners and rules,
Her Majesty in a bad temper or
A red-nosed Fool who makes a fool of fools.
No snickering. It is fucking hard to ride a plastic horse when your legs only kind of bend at the hip and your waist is immobile.