Sadly so

I need a retreat a blank sheet to write on a soft bed to sleep on, a gite will do somewhere in France. Not a fucking chance and the poor don’t get many of them they’re snapped up by the crocodile men, all I’ll get are Hackney marshes and as harsh at that sounds (what…

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Juice

Sour grapes? misshapen shapes? call it what you will but I’m not going until I’ve had my say. You, think today’s the day when everything goes A O K, think away old son the time’ll come and you’ll change your mind and I won’t mind saying, I told you so. We’re all in the blender…

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