As I ramble through the antibiotic induced fuzziness of my mind, I am forced to commune and connect with my old friends - the toads and frogs..... my assumed bootiful and melodious contralto has morphed to the lyrical renditions of a young frog, in desperate, long lost search of its endless tongue.. While the toungy search continues, I realise that one needs to appreciate the throaty sexiness of a croaky bass, a croaky soprano and definitely a croaky contralto....
Definitely something to this croaky, throaty affair...especially if said sexy frog managed to land himself a smackeroo right in the middle of his tongueless nogger by none other than a bootiful princess.... whither is my prince.....?? sighhhhhhhh
