The equivalent of ohrwurms in the head of me, a writer (that sounds pompous, well done me), is the occasional sparkle of a phrase as it crosses the corpus callosum from right brain to left. Here's some I can't get out my head (you too, Kylie):
- Creamy Spartan surprise
- Trumpet blocked by sausage, not a sexual reference, or does it?
- Mouldy friends reunite in back alleys, hand round crisps
- Holes are absent plugs
- Dog bark can't be rubbed
- Delicate bitch polish
They fizzing bang from one side of skull to the other, narrowly missing ear bones, and therefore not escaping, until now.
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Say what you want to say, I'm watching you