Summer Moonshine by P.G. Wodehouse
Not quate (sic) as the sand in the Civilization’s Spinach, Not quate (sic) like the lunatic furies of the Royal Baronets, But rather like words slipping from a tongue lubricated by unaccustomed Bollinger, Pours out the words from a Master Storyteller. What Ho! The one author whose works I immensely love is that of P.G. […]
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