Some specky prick (excuse the language, thinking about it all again has made me somewhat angry) really got on my tits the other night. Picture the scene, we're in the bar competiting in a Pub Quiz, and during the intervals we go over to one of those little quiz machine things. Putting £1 in now and again to play Deal or No Deal.
Noel Edmonds is throwing up all figures of impossible reachability (not a word I'm sure) such as 56000, 52000, 63000 etc. He's got a smirk on his face too. The same one each time, but it always felt as if they were getting...I dunno, 'smirkier' (I'm the new Shakespeare) after each round. So we called it quits and started playing other exciting trivial games, such as Buckaroo.
The next break we get we walk over and the machine is taken. Fine by me, I enjoy a good wait. But as I'm watching him, I notice his eyes are drawn to our good friend Deal or No Deal. Now, be
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