I must make this writing sexy. If taken from the front you’d see the unusual appendage I use for typing.
When I was 11 and slung in a dorm for refusing to conform, this avenging archangel in claret and blue adorned my wall. Frank McAvennie was my first favourite footballer; prolific, aggressive and a dab hand with the dames. To stand at his side was to be a child once more. “One McAvennie, there’s only one McAvennie…”
Russell learning how to jump without breaking anything
testing the furniture