Tag Archives: Knickers

171. Supergirl

“You seen her yet, Luci?” “Seen who?” “Fresh meat. Office pool.” “No. Not yet.” Fresh meat. That’s genuinely how the lads describe a new woman starting at work. Call me a coward but I’m not about to start correcting them, … Continue reading

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131 Pump Friction

Monday morning, gawping through black double glazing into a dimly lit car park filled with a mix of second hand and third hand cars that men can just about afford and new cars they can’t afford but they drive them … Continue reading

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107. Don’t Let me be Misunderstood.

I found Reg fascinating. Proper old school, white bread sandwiches with grey meat every single day, heavy coat whatever the weather, didn’t queue by the punch-clock but polished his print press with a rag until the final bell, Brylcreemed hair … Continue reading

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