I nearly drowned in apple juice today. I downed a good amount of Jucee Apple Juice leaning back in my chair, leaning right, right back so my chair rested on the radiator at what must have been a 45 degree angle, I lost my balance, put my right hand out to steady myself and got my Leeds wristband caught in the radiator piping. I then burped. Apple Juice came back up for round 2 versus my tonsils, and realised my body was stuck at a dodgy angle for as long as my wristband was trapped. For what seemed like tens of minutes rather than tens of seconds I was drowning and spluttering on a combination of sweet Vitamin C filled Golden Delicious Juice and my own spittle.
I felt like I was starring in a shit, fruit-drink based version of Final Destination.
My life flashed before my eyes. Actually it wasn't my life, it was the culture section of The Guardian website on my laptop (which was basted in a generous coating of Jucee Apple Juice after The Ordeal (which it shall be known as) was over). I can confidently say that my experience was on par with what the Chilean miners had to go through. FACT.
That's all I have to offer today. Auf Wiedersehn, shits.
Love and cider vinegar crisp particles at the bottom of the bag.
Jc
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