
It’s a barmy Summers day and I am still in bed. Open mouthed, with my laptop nearly tucked under my chin and my hands dripped in front of me like a mime artist who has just seen his pet Bichon Frise get backed over by a rickshaw. I search the internet
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“I have of late – but wherefore I know not – lost all my mirth. And indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition, that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory. This most excellent canopy the air, look you, this brave
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!!TONIGHT!! Lets dance the night away in all our ironic beamy glory when this totally smug-cocked Popup venue drop lands into the Manse Road Home for Battered Women.
For however many nights they can drag it out until- ONLY, you will be able to
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This amazing spot of soul thievery was snaffled just before the Beatles crossed Abby Road to buy themselves a round of Peperami on the morning of the 8th of August 1969 (roughly half past eleven).
As we can see from the photograph David Bowie has
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