Dear Morrissey,
Today I awoke, at the usual time, to the usual dulcet sounds of Radio 4, to find a tie scrawled on my chest and stomach in eye-liner.
I'm trying...
Despite the headache, and the nausea, and the strange (but increasingly familiar) hangover-fuelled-detachment...
I'm really, really trying....
To remember how it got there.
But I can't.
Yours From a Distance,
Jack x
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