You can get really camp homeless drug addicts as well as normal-mannered ones.
The last thing you expect when walking the back alleys of urban Cardiff at six thirty in the morning with a holdall full of bacon sandwiches on your shoulder, shouting "Brekkie Run" is a little voice lisp-squealing "fabulous!" from under a pile of rats and cardboard.
I really shouldn't worry about over population, you know. Camp does not always = homosexual but it tends to be a pretty good sign, and at the current conversion rate the race is going to mince itself out of a next generation by the time I'm fifty. I swear I must be the only straight bloke left sometimes. I wonder how Mars will take the news that I alone must take upon my shoulders the task of seeding the next generation? I also wonder when I'll get the time off work to do so, and if I'll be allowed to atend to the ugly lasses last.
The last thing you expect when walking the back alleys of urban Cardiff at six thirty in the morning with a holdall full of bacon sandwiches on your shoulder, shouting "Brekkie Run" is a little voice lisp-squealing "fabulous!" from under a pile of rats and cardboard.
I really shouldn't worry about over population, you know. Camp does not always = homosexual but it tends to be a pretty good sign, and at the current conversion rate the race is going to mince itself out of a next generation by the time I'm fifty. I swear I must be the only straight bloke left sometimes. I wonder how Mars will take the news that I alone must take upon my shoulders the task of seeding the next generation? I also wonder when I'll get the time off work to do so, and if I'll be allowed to atend to the ugly lasses last.
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