"Oh, hey, I would though," he says, shaking his head. "Out of our league, though," he adds
AT which point I decide ENOUGH IS ENOUGH.
"Like FUCK she is, Stench-Boy," I yell, making a manly attempt to hide my disgust but failing, spittle flecking the corners of my mouth. "Were I single, I would be perfectly capable of shagging her, her sisters, her mates and her acquaintances SO BLOODY WELL that they'd all offer to run away with me, set up some kind of Polish Mormon polygamist deal in the highlands of Scotland, and give me a LIFETIME of incredibly dirty group sex. Out Of Your League, certainly. My League, however, is of an entirely different magintude. BE GONE SIR! Back to your copy of Razzle and four Olde English, whilst I contemplate my destiny as father of the Polo-Irish master-race."
You have to bear in mind, Thursay 3-7 is a VERY dull shift.
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