Log comes in with a sick note from his tummy, which has been misbehaving in spectacular ways. Matt continues preparing us for our new Russian masters by trying to turn us all fascist, and Gav brings in a recording with a taxi driver who knows a little too much about aviation and women. God, you might as well not listen to it now
1 thought on “82: Soiling The Fascist Taxi”
I was astonished to learn how similar your last week was to mine, bumwise. I thought I was going mad with diaorrhhoeoea. At one point I thought I’d shat the bed but it turned out I’d just ejected some kind of odourless clear gel, which perhaps is what shit looks like if you haven’t eaten for a few days but anyway it was proper David Cronenberg body horror stuff.
I’m sure you will agree this is a sign that our destinies are as intertwined as our bowels. I’ve been a fan of yours since the olden days on thingbox, and now I’m certain that we are meant to be together forever, either in this life OR THE NEXT.
See you soon! X