Scott
C-wordy vessel, or, Country First, or, Ophelia if you let me, or, Phillips’ MILF of Amnesia
Alexandria
Not since network-news royal-watchers covering “Fergie” from the equestrian shires saw the Duchess of York hunt has on-air lingual-labial latitude – many’s the slip ‘twixt loosed lip and sunken ship [though scarce is the ketch] – so uncoiled when blown to New-Year’s-noisemaker length, in the form of a Kyra Phillips-head screwed-drive to hydroplane over the […]