Rant over, standby for incoming.
Cheers, Danny. (Armchair warrior par excellence).
Thou dost not rant nor run away at the mouth, but fill us who gather here around the fountain in the village square, with
wonder, leavened by the humourous recall of days of yore.
Standby for incoming? Old mate had had enough after a few weeks disastrous marriage. As he walked out the door she cried. . Where do you think you're going? . . .. Get fxxxxxx. Letter following.