The Crude Grub-Glutted Muck-Shuffler Slumped On His Hack-Chair, Lolling His Dead Syrup Eyes Through Other People’s Books To Lift Some Lousy Joke*

In which there is (in no particular order): grand theft everything; quotes from worthy books; no actual joke though, lousy or otherwise; pooh-poohing; much talk of my flaccid will; no mention of cocks; patronising direction to use a better browser than the one that you are, odds on, using now - coupled with a galling resistance to change on my part; a continuation of the lack of love lost between