Bah, luxury
We used to gather round, all eighteen of us, and huddle together everynight for warmth in an old soiled boot in the middle of the road. Then every morning, we'd wake up at four, go down the mines, get back at quarter to four the next morning, have three minutes sleep, then our father would beat us to death with a sponge then dance on our graves. And that was when we were lucky...
(, Mon 2 Feb 2009, 19:54, Reply)