"I hear you hang at Bill's Bar"
"What Bill's Bar?" he belched onions from under his lamp post into the Swansea drizzle and beyond.
"Bill's Butt Bar. Bill's big on butt."
He nodded, and slowly ground out my cigarette under his heel.
I was still smoking it. (a continuer)
1 comment:
The only thing what's near The Jack is a selection of James "Fuxin" McCarthy's teeth as per, mun. I'll be writing more about Bill's Bar, so watch this space innit.
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