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Life. It’s sometning we all have in common. Like death.
The thing inbetween. That’s the fu cking hard bit. Shall I be alright or you know, be a bit of c* unt.
That’s if you believe in nature/nature or who cares you’re either a c unt or you’re not a c unt. Either way.
Our time on this fireball/flat/round load of massive intergalactic mass of shots is brief.
And we have to justify our time on it because we have f uck all better to do.
Well, you could never ever miss a QPR home game from 1973 (Brighton) till now , even during a fu cking global pandemic when no other git can go, and keep your hugely personal one handed record going.
Or
Debate how utterly futile our ultimately pointless working class existences tiswas.
Because it really is all bollicks is reason to be a cock and stick it up a c unt.
Good things happen, good people prevail. There a reason for being a good person.
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