We were in the jam factory, as it seemed a good place to take the kids. Kids like jam, probably. Nearby machines cranked out copy after copy of Paul Weller, depositing him in tiny jars and sending him off to supermarkets. Nearby, the children were spreading jam on strips of wood and eating it. Overall, the Jam factory was a strange place. A large, moustached man in a purple, 3-piece suit was telling us about the history of jam. Apparently, it was created by God at the dawn of time.
The Jam factory was, as I said before, a strange place. Frankly, I don't think they really knew about Jam, or The Jam, or anything. The second I got out of here, I was tipping of health and safety about this illegal cloning/cannibalism deathshop...
Well, better be off. The kids have to be down in the tube station at midnight.
Yes, I planned to work more titles of songs by The Jam into this blog. It didn't really work. At all. Sorry...
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