Most Like Someone From Mauritania

Stephen Irvine, 19 February 2013

With another birthday lurking around the corner, waiting for me like a hoodlum in a dimly-lit alleyway, it suddenly became very clear this week that my best days are firmly behind me and vanishing fast in my rear-view mirror as I hurtle down the motorway of life towards my inevitable doom. Having quite literally rolled out of bed I spied the unpleasant profile of my expanding waistline in the mirror with a groan, before heading to the fridge for a can of Fanta and the leftovers of the previous night’s curry. I need to make the most of this; it seems as though the price of fizzy pop is about to go through the roof.

A huge crisis

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