4.35 am. What a stupid time. It's, like, a tepid tin of baked beans served without toast. Covered in bees. Bees covered in Eddie Izzard. Naked. Dammit! How come I always end up talking about men in the buff. So on that note I shall scribble down a story in order to aleviate the boredom. Featuring, erm, this little dude named Geraldo
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