You know, I recently had a near death experience.
I know, sounds faintly ridiculous, right? I mean, life is a near death experience. Simply walking down to the shop to get the latest copy of Razzle usually means negotiating several roads, gangs of disreputable, hooded youths talking to each other in some form of sms flavoured code, bitter old ladies whose dreams never came true and who hold you personally responsible for the excitement that utterly failed to show up in their lives, and you continually have to invent rules for games you discover yourself playing – games such as Dodge the Dog Turd or Antagonise the Supermarket Security Guard. Each of these things pose different, but potentially catastrophic, dangers to your physical and mental well being.
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