The new Professor of Philology at
claimed to be a non-existent hairbrush with a penchant for medieval jazz played on a Jewish staircase. Oxbow University
But that was just a linguistic game.
Really, he was an indifferent hedgerow whose hobby was hunting down racist motorbikes and converting them to classical liberalism.
However, that was just playing with semantics.
Really, he was a dyslexic hosepipe with a misdiagnosed allergic reaction to scissors made in factories containing cuts.
All of which was an elaborate game of verbal hide-and-seek.
Really, he was an illiterate lamp-post who wrote poetry about sexist potatoes with only the sharpest homophobic pencils which stolen money could buy.
And if you think that’s bad, you should have seen his wedding list.