a submission from lucy beech who thinks hes hiding behind his rucksack because hes embarrased about how many tezzies chock naranjas hes got. but more likely hes hiding in case dawn french is walking from the quiet coach to the paranoia inducing auto locking cubicle that says 'please dont flush nappies, sanitary towells, your ex's sweater, goldfish or hopes and dreams down this toilet'
from a man in shoreditch
this was in the flat, think it belongs to Lucy beech
i read some of it. it was very interesting
this is scanned from a book called G1 which is a weird graphic design vernacular book project im not sure where its from, its really of its time, whenever that was