Wednesday, 17 August 2016

What's that noise?

If there's one thing guaranteed to make my blood boil - apart from, that is, a champagne socialist pretending he has a conscience, or a racist UKIPER feigning patriotism as a mask, or the way that supermarkets manipulate my time by inconveniently locating milk and bread in the farthest corners of the retail galaxy - it is having to wear a blood pressure monitor clamped to my arm for 24 hours. Squeeze that exquisite agony every 30 minutes.

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