almighty be mine

all these cheeses in the world and all we’ve go is cheddar, said breadroll, that’s what we stuff between our cheeks. and pork arseholes, with a scrumptious exotic sauce.
i could draw an asshole in the sand, it’s very easy, said sponge, really. would you like to see it?
breadroll did not want to. i do it anyway, said sponge. he drew an asshole.
they sulked.

sponge is the plight almighty of the working class

why anyway are these people here why a shop that has no crisps but tweed in an area that cannot stomach anything heavier than a burger? a frozen pizza maybe to be extravagant in the summer know what i mean. sausage rolls. pyjamas, yes. but tweed? — english, the englishman said but he was not to appear for a while and neither did anyone else. having that settled we remain with:-


but the plight of sponge in a grey tracksuit as it goes without saying.

© the Book of Sponge and Others.