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Scribbling bollocks.

Back in the 20th Century, I used to write loads of stuff down. In a book. I know. A book. The mind boggles. They encouraged it at university, so a lot of it was to appease them more than anything. I’ve still got them and just had a look through some of it. And some of it is fuck awful. But then some not too bad. But most of it’s nearly twenty years old, so that’s bound to happen.

Really, though. I had no idea what that was about. My degree was in graphic design. The first year was treated like a fine art course. I remember doing life drawing (shudder) every Tuesday for a year at college, directly from school. They got us to do it again at university. Apparently ‘some people hadn’t done it before’. Then why the fuck are they on this course?! I’ve done my time, where are the computers, man?

There’s honestly nothing that puts you off the naked human body more than staring at the naked human body for eight hours solid.


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