Rob Miles

My brother grim slim chance escape plan failed suffocate in heat hot twelve hay bails dead bodies in the black holes best lay ideal spot till a shot rings out, owl wings flutter and a nearby shout scares arms round out knocks candle falls and flames soon lick these barnyard walls, run run ruined in mud up your back slack slip in the rain won't put this out.

John pours the tea and tells his taleso - rooftop fights and tall ships sailso, cat liquor, the blue spot, bun cutting, fly eyes and the day he met the Dress.

Hand painted blue pot patterns and Thomas rings gold this evening, he's just taking the piss and taking his time and taking your mother's silverware. Look, don't try and explain yourself like some anatomy diagram, I've heard the likes of this before tiresome detail, dreams you can keep to yourself, start tinning around and you're in for a smack. Reels, red ribbon cuts like a boat, looks nice on your head, goes with your bad breath, sticker collection and notes on bright suggestions made by your good friend Mr Shut Up.

This board is too new, nothing a paint job won't do, feels like there's some mention of a breakthrough, I'm definately on the list, you should be too.
(I'll check - I can't promise anything but I did mention to Marcomb when he brought the subject up last week tha you were interested, although I havn't heard from him since. I should be speaking to him on Tuesday and I will certainly ask.)