Mister Smitty is a good foot-polisher!
(not a
boot-licker, a lackey who lacks Latin, or a lame, lame-covered llama on the
lam)
No:
it’s fun to run one’s bare foot over his furry flanks. It reminds a Mister of
one of those shoe-polishing buffers outside train stations in Spain, Italy, or
any bygone depot in the U.S.
At the risk of dating himself by
disclosing such a memory, This Mister must append that “that was in another
country; and besides, the Nietzsche’s read.”
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