It's certainly killing my attention span. While writing this paragraph I have: followed an ongoing theological/sexuality debate on twitter, seen a spam email about a dating site called “Christian Mingle” which I couldn't have less interest in joining, and a video of Harry Styles being hit in the
I really am quite excited about running at the moment, but I'm just not good at it. I still get butterflies in my stomach before every run, and a terror that it's going to be awfully impossible.
The point of Page 3 will still be about going “cor, look at that!” at some tits. Except now, the tits will be draped in some very lovely fabric probably designed by some bloke somewhere.