Lost in The Beauty of Angkor Wat

“It’s that sheer linen collar,” said Ellis-Bextor. “It’s always troubling you in humid climates. I don’t know why you don’t wear something else.”

“It’s not the sheer linen collar,” screamed Shakespeare, lunging towards Ellis-Bextor, flecks of spittle cascading down on her. “It’s the fucking amok trey. I knew you weren’t fucking listening to me, you pallid witch. You never fucking listen.”

“You don’t listen. You never listen.” Shakespeare withdrew slightly. “I’m going to have to come up with some way of teaching you to listen.”

A man who has no interest in writing about Toadfish Rebecchi, largely because his surname is annoying to spell. Recent PostsRiding holiday in Montana has pros and cons A day at Macchu Picchu At the Observatory, a five-star hotel in Sydney Angkor Wat and then returning to the hotel Stonehenge with Sophie Ellis-Bextor One day at the Egyptian pyramids Shakespeare and Toadfish Rebecchi at the Parthenon in Athens Shakespeare in the Waldorf Astoria Orlando Recent CommentsBonobo the Clown: A car containing a gizzard has Kevin Miles: This better be to be fucking c Alex: Maybe all will become clear if chowkster: The ending is intriguing to sa Bonobo the Clown: I've some cooling balm that co Kevin Miles: If anyone can get a message to Alex: Why not indeed. If he had b John: Why not Leonard Rossiter eh? Bonobo the Clown: I saw Martin Rossiter from Gen Ken from accounts.