Thirteen, if the Observer 'Escape' review of 2008 is anything to go by.
"Boss, can I have Christmas off?"
"Well, who will write the end of year review piece?"
"Simple! Our fist-gnawingly-pretentious readership of course!"
The result? Let's just say I never thought someone's account of a trip to Parliament Hill lido would not only make me want to out scratch my eyes, but also ram a pencil up my nose and into my frontal lobe. That's the part of the brain related to language processing by the way. The frontal lobe, not the nose. But if you're an Observer reader, I'm sure you knew that already.
Even now, thinking back to some of the utter, utter gash is making me well up with anger inside. Aargh!
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