I'm A Quitter. I Come From A

So Here Are Some Foolproof Recipes For Those Of You Who Understand The True Function Of Food. Bean Treat: Gingerly Pour Four Fluid Oz Of Beans Or Something Into A Jug. Cry. Eat The Beans From The Jug And Pour The Rest From The Can Down Your Throat. N.b. These Taste Better If They Belong To Somebody Else In Your House. Pain Au Dunk: Fists Of Bread, Rent From The Loaf And Dunked Into Anything Runnier Than Bread. Should Eat At Least Six Of These Because…you Should. Don’t Toast The Bread. Toast Is Cookery.

If You Covered A Broom Handle With Oil And Shoved It Up My Arse, Then Put Me On A Trampoline, In A Lift, I Could Write A Better Song On The Walls.

You See The Button With The Guy With The Tray, And You Push It, And He Arrives With A Sandwich! And You Think: "yes! Yes! I Control Sandwich Monkey! I Live In Magic Land, Magic Land, Magic Land"

I Draw Hundreds And Hundreds Of Pictures Of Sort Of Gnarly Looking Men, So I Don't Know What That Tells You. People Who Look Like... They're Waiting For A Sandwich That's Never Going To Come. I Don't Know What's Wrong With Me.

It's Such A Bullshit Move. Transparently So. It's Obviously Supposed To Give Succor To People Who Feel Pissed Off Because Someone From Another Country Got A Job That They Feel Should've Been Given To Them. But That's What People Voted Against Here. They Voted Against The Movement Of Labor - That Kind Of Fluidity - Because They Want A Britain That No Longer Exists, And They Can't Get It.