Photoshop Never Lies

This is a picture of the bottom of my wardrobe and the secret box of secret bad writing I keep in it. Most of it goes on my computer now, and I used to think if I had a house fire I would save this box first. Now I think if I was having a house fire it would be because I’d tried to get rid of this lot.

I used to think that I would keep all these for posterity. Now I am on the way to having posterity, or at least, one, small descendant, I should get on with the arson as soon as possible. No-one wants to read about what their mother thinks of… no, I can’t even give an example.

I used to write a lot in fountain pen and some of it is so faded now as to be illegible. The biro seems to have stood the test of time the best, even the 12-year-old biro, which is as far back as it goes. Felt pen seems to be okay, although there is less of that to make an accurate judgement. I never used pencil, possibly because even in my youth I was an arrogant, fame-seeking little sod and imagined these would be typed up by an adoring biographer one day.

Quick. Where’s my lighter?

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