Crud Corny

After the best one yet—bloodshot eyed and a mouth like the card had kittens in it—ran into old Murray Rowlands In the boozer the other day.

He and I both being all of 23. started saying things like "cliches, banal, trite, space-waster, why" and resolved to write letters.

Not, mind you, that we can't tolerate the cull of the Weirman or Vic A girls in their respective (or each other's) places . . . but these, trotted out with every issue of Salient and inflicted on us with monotonous regularity????????

Fair go; it'd make a joker keep his sixpence and buy "Listener".