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Aah, back in Leeds. Once again I breathe the sweet Beestonian air, ripe with the scent of poverty and desperation, overlaid with a hint of burning car tires and the faintest suggestion of chrome as the local meth lab starts cooking up a fresh batch of insanity and death.
Dear God. WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE?!
Dear God. WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE?!