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The sexiest Goose this side of Sexgoose, Arizona; is basking in the spoils of another scruffy win over some pie munching barely evolved clog dancing bastards from even further North than where I live. Which is saying something, because last time I checked I in fact lived further north than the arctic circle.
A fact confirmed each time I switch the heater off for the briefest respite from watching pound notes literally burn into thin air; only to be chilled immediately to the bone by an icy blast of freezing fog that creeps up the stairs, escaping from the living room of my brass, damp riddled house.
Whether this fact is geographically accurate isn't relevant, but if you were to take issue I have an £11 children's globe here from Woolworths. It proves my house is the third most northerly point on the planet. After some bastard pub in Yorkshire, and the aforementioned Neanderthal pie munching pan-heads. Maybe that has something to do with the globe's close proximity to the 120watt angle poise lamp on the desk that interrogates me everyday, and maybe that would explain the fumes that done got me zoned.
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