In a secluded cesspit in northern England, Nora Legoff picked someone else’s
nose in front of her chimeras.
Nora said: “I came across the catalogue ‘Nebbs To Die For’, in the bin over there, and thought it would be nice to have smaller nostrils and tighter sinuses, so I wouldn’t smell the situation I’m in. As old Oscar said; “we are in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.” He was a barrel of laughs that lad.”
I stayed for Nora’s wedding banns to the local scarecrow. He is the only one for miles that’s in a regular job. “We’ll have a quiet wedding in an unscientific ceremony next month. I hope my wedding train turns up.” Nora added with a twinkle – it could have been a cataract or a tear – in her cloudy blue eyes.