Well it’s a bit late and I really want to go to bed so I don’t actually want to pontificate for long and besides I don’t know what that means but it sounds good. Maybe it’s something I could do in bed? Only 20 people were uninebriated enough or lacking torpidity to participate after the Easter break. Anyway, you know I don’t want to blow my own trumpet but hey, great run, great food, great company. I guess I’m starting to vociferate but I do try to sedulously avoid all polysyllabic profundity, pompous prolixity, psittaceous vacuity, ventriloquial verbosity, and vaniloquent vapidity but sometimes it’s a little difficult. It’s pretty lugubrious when thesaurus .com replaces sex. Anal did the circle. Faucet and Porno the hares. 2 virgins who walked faster than most of the runners. Happi came back. Woodpecker nearly got the wanker song for Gash’s little Hash Package until someone picked up on the faux pas. Butterbitch, dickhead, fell of his bike. Nice macula!