I sit down to watch Waterworld, revelling in the knowledge that someone
somewhere in Carlton *must* have finally taken notice of my "moan" a couple of
years ago.
I thoroughly enjoy the programme, noting that the item on Little Venice
*must* have brought the waterways to the notice of hitherto unaware southerners
& non-canal people generally.
I scan the pages of the TV listings magazine to see what next week's
programme is liable to offer.
I die inside as I note that "Waterworld" has to give way to the worship of
the leather ball & is consigned next week [please god it's *only* next week] to
the dustbin of history.
I contemplate suicide as I realise that, once again, football wins & dictates
for all, whether it's of interest or not---aaaarrrrggghhhh!!!!
Barry
Nb f**kingfootball!
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