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I tell stories
100 words, or sometimes more

Hair of the Dog

I’ve got a mate called Harishami who’s a 21st Century revivalist.

He tells me the same thing every time we go drinking. “It was a better time, shiva. There was, like, this perfect balance between man and machine. People were, like, pure.”

That’s true, I say. And people also had aching knees at 37, still thought trees weren’t sentient and were scared of cancer.

I mean, cancer. They died of it. That’s serious barbarian stuff there.

But he won’t have it.

Got to admit they got some things right, though. Chewing on this dog hair does wonders for your hangover.

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