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224 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2017
Ian came striding over and placed a sympathetic hand on Stevie’s shoulder. Stevie shuddered at the man’s touch. He had huge, fat, pink hands which reminded Stevie of big chunks of ham. He imagined ham juice seeping through his white shirt.
Pat woke up early the next morning with a monster of a hangover. He felt like a bag of smashed arseholes.
Ah started tae feel a bit sorry fur the cunt – he’d disappeared an naebody gave a fuck, no even the polis. Then ah remembered how much ae a wank he wis. Good fuckin riddance, ah say.For fans of Boyle, Brooker and Arseblog. Read this if you want your pandemic anxieties to fade away and just enjoy brilliant Scottish humour. Also read if you want to make sense of the words shed rave, shite map, korma police and budgie biceps.