“As I’m writing this, the UK is surviving a heatwave of metal-melting proportions. Now, by most standards, our heatwave is puny and lightweight. But, for us pasty-faced pasty-eating tea-sipping fools this is hot. SWELTERING! I’m constantly sat in a state of stale perspiration, slowly drooping into a senseless stupor. My brain is constantly throbbing. My skin has turned a reddish-spotty-brown, the pale illness of winter skin a distant dream. I also commute to work, packed onto small yellow boxes that cart me to my pit of despair. Now, as my brain throbs, my teats leak, my skin melts and my eyes itch, I yearn for something brutal enough to give direction to my anger. Well, Secret Cutter has come at the right time.” Scar hopping.
