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Yeah, so I was sitting there in the library, right, trying to get through this massive pile of work. Bit overwhelming really, but you know how it goes. Not exactly what I'd call a brilliant afternoon, but somehow got through it all.

Look, look, what are you even trying to say? You think you can just stand there and judge me? I'm a hero, okay? What, what's the plan here? Are you just trying to make me look bad? Because it's not working, man.

I'm sitting here wondering if you even think of me anymore. I have gone through so much just to hear your voice, but the silence is deafening. Please, Love, don't keep me waiting in this pain. I just need to know the truth so I can move forward.

Yeah, look, I know you're all waiting and stuff. I'm fucking trying to get this sorted, you know? Don't worry about it though, like, seriously. People keep messaging me about the whole thing, but I'm getting to it, yeah?

I've been thinking about what comes next, you know? And and sometimes you worry if the audience will still be there. I don't know if I'm cut out for for the big action stuff, but I really love the storytelling. It's all about finding that emotional core, I think.

The problem with the industry today is that everyone wants to categorize everything, you know? It's like, they don't get the feeling behind the riff, you know what I mean? You can't just slap a label on it and say you understand it, like, at all.

So, the 'gentlemen' have bolted, leaving the scum to hold the line while London burns. Those shambling rotters don't care about your rank or your medals. Take the king's colours and run, if you still have the stomach for it. There is no glory left in this graveyard.

Look at me, I'm just a useless donkey in a trash bin. I miss kissing that glorious, shiny bald head every single day. Ruben Amorim is far too hairy for my liking, it's honestly disgusting. I’ll keep throwing games until my beautiful bald genius returns to the club.