I've always been writing stuff. Nonsense, rubbish, poetry, prose; a whole lot of words scattered over desks, floors, drawers and covering a growing mountain of years. I decided to post some of it on here for whoever might want to read it.
Fat bald men on the telly. Shouting and drinking, swaying back and forth, waving, clapping, cheering. In their bright shirts, wrinkled necks, cigarettes and beer bellies. They jump up in unison; ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY.
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