It goes something like this (though don’t quote me):

- you can pocket glitz but you can’t keep it;
- Brighton rocks but be careful of the switchblade;
- three misty mornings in a row and luckily things have become clearer - go figure;
- a 3 legged cat is as good an omen as any (if not better);
- shame that the boys round here have to draw pudenda’s in chalk on the tarmac by the riverside, slandering mothers and daughters alike before charging off on a handbrake turn;
- I am glad the Hampshire malcontents are well behind me, all those blood pools on a Saturday morning in the High Street, shattered glass and teeth in there, too much for eyes and history;
- the bag lady was a quiet saint, carrying her books in a shopping trolley through cathedral grounds – she asked me to christen her Ruth, so I did.

Salisbury