The plonker hired a car for him and the tart to tour the island, all 30 odd kilometres of it. Fat bastard should have walked, would have been more eco friendly.They thought they had lost me but I had hidden in the boot. The plonker thinks a boot is something the tart gives him as foreplay.Bugger, should have stayed in the boot a bit longer, spotted by the plonker. As they oinked latte’s and moca’s at the local art gallery checking out the over priced Raro shirts I made my getaway !Ended up at the Muri Beach Club Hotel. Met this man who kept buying me Long Island Iced Tea’s and let me stroke his “happy budda” belly while I sat on his knee.The tart tracked me down and my night ended in a living form of hell. Confined to bed with the tart !!!!Sunrise the day the plonker and spawny tart ( tarts daughter ) go game fishing.
