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I never saw any of Rangers games before I was born and I may not see many after I’m dead ( as ghosts only exist after you’re dead and not before you’re born).
That means I have no control over their fortunes so I don’t care anymore now. Yet I do. Conundrum.
Cunnilingus. Are Lingus. Fly away take me to another day.
When I die I don’t want to k ow about it.
Ibteckin I’ve got twenty years to go. Or less or more. O’la more by Dollar. Great song.
It’s all bollocks. The earth will explode one day.
Isn’t it all futile? Does anything matter, really? This planet will collapse in on itself one day. We are all stardust.
How the f ucking crikey cobblers c unty bollox did we lose to Reading? Losing to Spurs is fine, we’ll be champions. Losing to a packet of Bourbons means we going all Bordeaux. Spiritually.
Life begins at the hop, boys and girls.
Make this life of rollercoasters a fun one for all, don’t be a c unt.
In this short existence. Given I live a land of plenty. I’m not oppressed nor am I impressed and can write shite and talk bollocks. Especially after a litre of Sherry:
What makes your life bearable. Beyond , family, friends and all that. What goes on in your head. On your own. At 3.27 am.
I can honestly say it’s about XTC. Not Rangers, love them that I do.
I woke up the other night and could’ve sworn that Andy Partridge was shaving our dog.
We don’t have a dog.
My simple pleasure is getting to the end without being interrupted.