Along the entire way to the University of Arkansas I’ve got The Count of Monte Cristo playing at 1.25x speed. 47 hours of material, of which, by the time I’m pulling out of my driveway, I have 17 hours left. 5.5 hours of driving projected by Maps and the car’s a-rumble with the sonority of John Lee’s narration. Ma foi, I could listen to him say French words all day.
Everyone knows a man with a truly awful shirt. Be it pink paisley or an impulse purchase whilst on holiday in Hawaii, a bad shirt is not forgotten quickly. Dads are renowned for owning such treasures, as well as anyone who was alive during the Eighties. You only need to take a look at your parents’ old photo albums to spot these ghastly garments.