Rather sad. A couple of pages ago I posted a short but charming about a Norwegian explorer expressing extreme happiness in finding his final cache. Just wanted to share the emotional response.
I'm a postmodern commentator, and so, in a cheeky parallel to James Joyce or James Kelman, I get to places, verbally, that are a little unusual - when I talk about Jocky Wilson and end up sounding like a Jackson Pollock of the commentary box.
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