My kitchen radio’s power supply literally blew up (sparks, flames, smoke, the lot) during the match that relegated Southampton from the Premier League and I took it as a sign that listening to the radio was bad for my mental health…
A fat, smelly, sweating lump of lard, with stale ale breath, jumping on you, whilst misquoting Shakespeare, is surely everyone's idea of night terrors 🤦♀️
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So at 30 she would have been 7