A further installment of the anagram series 'I Had Always Intended To Explain How I Bred Certain Of My Ants'.
My Andean patron, Alf, idly exhibited wanton Swedish erotica.
A damned weird tenor saxophonist. In ability, halfway decent.
Walter, I maintain, was deafened by discordant xylophone hit.
With thanks as ever to Christopher Atton for the drawings