Bumped into Clubfoot Colin today.
Utterly wankered at four o’clock in the afternoon:
![](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/blogger_img_proxy/AEn0k_uJVlmMuYiJqu8WnNniKsQc5alMvWRVGeP9Dzu7th3xKow1vaehycA2iPZqtFJ-A1quhFB-mj4njR-4hmCzqehDCt9Kq22l7M6HDMVu7Dd1OP4hDBGC1fZHiQAuw2xH6V0=s0-d)
Not good.
Don’t think he knew his own name, or he didn’t till Mart goes “Oi, Col, mate. Do you know you’ve got a chip stuck to your arse?”
And even then, he didn’t do much.
Tragic.
Utterly wankered at four o’clock in the afternoon:
Not good.
Don’t think he knew his own name, or he didn’t till Mart goes “Oi, Col, mate. Do you know you’ve got a chip stuck to your arse?”
And even then, he didn’t do much.
Tragic.
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