If love were a product, the queue at the faulty goods desk would stretch right round the universe and back. It doesn't work properly. The seams come apart and it's full of powdered glass.

If love were a product, the queue at the faulty goods desk would stretch right round the universe and back. It doesn't work properly. The seams come apart and it's full of powdered glass.

I think people are starting to look away and questioning, and they're sort of horrified.

Being slagged off is good for you. It thickens the skin and strengthens the backbone.

I've instinctively hated the Tories since birth.

Society? Can we trust us? Doubt it. We're probably not even real, as was revealed in the popular documentary The Matrix. That bloke next door? Made of pixels. Your co-workers? Pixels. You? One pixel. One measly pixel. You haven't even got shoes, for Christ's sake.

People gravitate towards their own era, nostalgia therapy is a real thing that's being tinkered with.