Friday, 2 May 2008

#103. THE WAY THE MAN NEXT TO ME ON THE TRAIN LAST NIGHT SAT READING A JOKE BOOK AS THOUGH IT WERE A CLASSIC NOVEL.

Look at him -- thoughtful, pensive, contemplative. What could he be reading?

Some Zola maybe? Or some Proust? Or maybe some Nick Horny? Or at the very least Angels and fucking Demons?

No. A joke book. A joke book about the internet. The arsehole.

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