Beloved we join hands here to pray for gin. An aridity defiles us. Our innards thirst for the juice of juniper. Something must be done. The drought threatens to destroy us. Surely God who let manna fall from the heavens so that the holy children of Israel might eat will not let the equally holy children of Niggeratti Manor die from the want of a little gin. Children let us pray.
Have you ever noticed how when youre happy time seems to pass by fast while when youre miserable it goes real slow Life would have been a blink with you whether it lasted a millennium or a month.