Corby
Oct 09, 2019
2 minutes
an inner child, but I am cursed with something far less cute or cuddly: an inner bogan. I’ve tried to crush his street-spitting spirit and I’ve defied his desire to tattoo my body, but he’s still there, deep down, desperate to drag me back to rugby-league watching, using swear words as punctuation and worshipping exclusively at the altar of Aussie
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