I liked it. Fuck you.

Remember that last post I wrote? I’m sure you do, you read it and shared it on all your social networks and posted a comment and everything. No?

Oh, well, the gist was that I suggested people send me shark movies and then people sent me shark movies. I put quite a bit of effort in, I made a little video and everything. No?

Fine.

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This is a story that begins with boobies.

We’re gonna need a bigger bra.

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My missus is a ruddy great history nerd. She has a secret folder on her laptop full of topless photos of Dan Snow and completely ruined the latest Robin Hood movie by pointing out that the commoners shouldn’t be wearing purple hoodies.

So, the opportunity to review a copy of Bernard Cornwell’s new book was an ideal way for me to get in her good books after swearing at her while building Lego at the weekend, and also a fantastic way to keep her quiet for a while so I can build Lego.

This review launches a blog tour of reviews and articles related to these books, because if you’re going to advertise your epic historical novel, why not start the ball rolling with a poorly maintained blog written by a guy who wouldn’t know history if it jumped out in front of him, waggling its tentacles or whatever.

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I went to the pictures on Sunday and I watched a movie called Ad Astra with my mate Chris. It was a pile of arse.

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The Sniffer.

A Russian/Ukranian show.

On Netflix.

With subtitles.

From 2013.

A detective show.

About a man who solves crimes.

Ok… yeah, that might have answered the question posed in the title…

BUT

He solves crimes by sniffing stuff.

Look.

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