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He enjoyed a good eyeballing. Always had. There were few better ways to show utter disdain for a person, he thought, than with some intense squinting and a lengthy spell of not blinking.
“Let’s not get out knickers in a fucking twist here,” Hoon said. “I broke your thumb, pal. No’ your hand. Calm down. You’ve still got a perfectly functioning one left.”
“And you taco-holed fuckmuppets strike me as no exception.”
white wine was exclusively for women, children, and sexually ambiguous footballers from the 1980s.
