If you just happened to catch the Epping line into Melbourne's north, and you just happened to get off at Lalor, and you just happened to come to our house, and you just happened to look up, you might just happen to see a pair of pants on the roof.
And if you just happened to see that pair of pants on the roof, and just happened to ask, 'why is there a pair of pants on the roof', well, then, I would not be in the least bit surprised.
Why are there a pair of pants on the roof? Well maybe we thought the roof was naked and it needed a pair of pants. Maybe its legs were getting cold. Of course you might go on to wonder whose pair of pants those are originally, but they're mine actually. And you might continue to speculate, if the roof is wearing my pair of pants, then what am I doing? But we're not talking about me, and besides, I think this chimney suits me very well indeed. Hey, maybe I thought Santa could do with an extra pair of pants, and since he's going to land his reindeer on the roof that's where he's going to get the extra pair of pants from. Pants, on the roof. Could there be anything in the world that requires less explanation? I wouldn't worry about it if I were you. And also, why don't you stop asking these questions and go and put a pair of pants on your roof, hmm? Hmm? Don't you do anything like this, like keep a haystack on your teapot, or a telephone in you pelmet or a Gutenberg bible in your orange peels?
Tim, your links stink, you fink!
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