Everybody laughed for a long time, for it was the kind of joke that seemed to grow on you. You would laugh and eventually stop. But after a few minutes you would think of the joke again, and you would burst out laughing all over again.

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With him big Phil from Notting Hill an old “face” from the sixties a pin up gangster with a “mars bar” weal scraping his left cheek and of course two “wag” slags in tow trussed up like French Poodles with “Bratz babe” stares and Gucci Handbags

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Grandma, everyone out here is bleaching their anuses. What do I do?”
Her advice? “Baby, go outside in the sun and squirt a little lemon juice on it.

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