right here you say? this is where he had his first nocturnal emission eh?
“Wait, you say this is a bedroom? Someone actually sleeps on this, you would feel a pea under this in no time at all!!!”
“Where are the Playboys?”
Funny, I remember helping a college friend move once. We were moving the roommates shit too. We lifted the mattress and there was a whole stack of porn. So, we quickly hid it, and went about our business. Next thing you know you could hear this panicked running up the stairs and he came in all out of breath. Neither of us cracked a smile and just kept packing. I always wonder what scenarios he played through in his head.
So Dylan shat there as a child? I am enthralled by all the details you have enlightened me with in your stories of his youth. Where is the gin?
“A child slept here, you say? And was tucked in by a loving parent with genuine human emotion and affection?”
“Yes, sir. It’s true.”
Woohoo! More Prince Charles!
“What kind of gold is this? Looks rare.”
“That’s not gold, Sir. It’s wood.”
“Wow. Beds made out of wood? That’s news for me.”
“Apparently he was a rather small fellow now, wasn’t he.”
“I see. So, the filthy bugga would wank off into the quilts, eh? How dreadful. What is that on your hands, my dear? Oh my, I do hope that is hand lotion.”
“And this was Dylan Thomas’s coverlet? Raised a bit of a nancy boy, wasn’t he?”
Ah, Dylan Thomas was a bedwetter, too.
And this is where your grandchild, who is sure to succeed the throne before you do, will be incubated and hatched.
“…and here is where Dylan Thomas slept. He wou-”
“:Yeah yeah yeah…Where did he hide his porn?”
But mummy said EVERYONE wets their bed!
“You’re frigid, uptight and annoying… I must have you! In the bed you go love.”
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