if there is one thing i love to do than it’ll be to reek like a rookie. there is nothing like it. the reasoning about reeking and rank and retirement makes the odour turn sour, the very substance that on the rookie’s mildly bulging body loiters and lingers as the bad news -for some- that it is, that substance or subs as insiders or ins as they call themselves usually call it that later will turn out to be the undercoat of your presence, that smell of butter gone sour and vapourising beer.
sponge was in a position to achieve this state and in that state he triumphantly glazed over his collegues. what a waste of words as none and not one were listening. he will have to repeat this shit.