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It was a Monday night and three eighteen-year-old males stumbled through the streets of London, all laughing, with nothing to laugh at. As soon as they woke in the morning they wondered why they even went out. One of the three woke with a start as he sprinted of to work. Another woke in a skate park, with his helmet the wrong way round a bruises all around his body, even the sacred parts. The last got out of a large dustbin with no eyebrows and fire burns on his t-shirt. They had all wondered off in different directions after thinking they were going home. As you might of guessed only one of them got there. After the third one, Harry, fell out of the dustbin he walked off in the direction of the pub, obviously he hadn't learnt his lesson. Dick, the second one, got up and staggered off towards home, this time wanting to get there. Only one of them (Tom) had a half descent life, the other two had a life that was filled with drinking, smoking, sleeping and trying not to think. (Because it hurt). Tom, Dick and Harry had pretty pathetic lives. Tom worked in a small company that paid him enough to live with his sister and buy him drinks and smokes. Dick slept eighteen hours a day and the rest of the time tried committing suicide or drinking or smoking. Harry, had no idea what was happening to his life, because most of the time he was alive he didn't remember a thing. Really you could call them… people that have no life and have rubbish jobs. |
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