SUNDAY #68 – Dirty Boots

dr martens

I’ve only gone and woken up without a hangover.

*winks at own reflection in laptop screen*

It’s been a blinding week filled with gigs, graduations and an awful lot of fan-girling. I’m still playing catch-up, but I wouldn’t change a thing.

Well, that’s not entirely true. I’d change my Dr Martens. They’re cracking at their yellow seams because my hooves refuse to settle in to any other type of shoe.

It’s going to be tough saying goodbye to these dirty boots, but I look forward to wearing in some new ones. Preferably at a gig like the one below. Not that the raucously romantic behaviour at the end could be emulated today; security would cut that off in a heartbeat. They’d probably drag you out by your genitals.

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