This reporter likes to thing that he’s been around the chemical block a few times. Possibly stopping at the crack-house, shooting-gallery, and club toilets on the way. Or maybe just at the chemical block on the side of the urinal. But chocolate covered coffee beans, they blew me away. Dry mouth, inability to talk properly, […]
Apparently, in a sweeping generalisation I read in the Guardian, boys are prone to collecting things. I am a boy. I have variously collected watches, shoes, and money in the past. Collections of foreign banknotes used to excite me – the Australian swim-proof plastic backed dollar, the indestructable Dutch Vim-proof snorting Guilder. It was not
Angels with Dirty Faces? Mingers with too much make-up more like. One of the Sugababes‘ parents have called her Mutya, which is only one a few letters away from munter. ‘Nuff said.
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