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My dad talks MORE than me, he talks me
into a stupor, if you read my terrible Vogon
poetry you will know what I mean, imagine
if I should meet him - he is eighty-three –
In some astral or ethereal region after physical
death which means I will have moved to the
other side, and he is waiting for me, imagine
if we both fire away as we do in physical life
My dad talking me into oblivion, me talking
my family to a standstill, poor hubby running
away shouting enough is enough, my dad and
I would scare non-physical consciousness
We would get chucked from paradise, just watch
the newspapers in 1925 – there will be an article
about the commotion in ethereal realms, it would
be my dad and me – and oh, Christo
My Aries brother, who talked the others to such a
fatigue, we will all have been chucked into hell –
from which we would be expelled, given our noisy
propensities – and we would probably meet
Uncle Chicken, Aunt Tokkie, Uncle Tapan, Auntie
Meisie – everyone I never met in this life - not
to mention my "Tannie Klein", Gerhard and I
would have a great time!
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