Firing off neurons like a modern-day Nostradamus, I awoke from slumber this Sunday having dreamt of Timmy putting down Pacquiao twice on route to a stoppage win.
Is a trip to the bookies in order? A superstitious man would suggest that it is!
Being neither superstitious nor capable of money making premonitions I'm rather worryingly drawn to one of two conclusions:
A). At the detriment of more pressing concerns, my unconscious mind has become marinated in the inherently coarsening effects of boxing and is now utterly obsessed with controlled violence.
B). Semi naked men pass through my dreamy mind pounding each others loins signalling a concealed and sadistic latent *******uality.
Both of which have no bearing whatsoever on the outcome of this fight. . . . Do carry on.
Is a trip to the bookies in order? A superstitious man would suggest that it is!
Being neither superstitious nor capable of money making premonitions I'm rather worryingly drawn to one of two conclusions:
A). At the detriment of more pressing concerns, my unconscious mind has become marinated in the inherently coarsening effects of boxing and is now utterly obsessed with controlled violence.
B). Semi naked men pass through my dreamy mind pounding each others loins signalling a concealed and sadistic latent *******uality.
Both of which have no bearing whatsoever on the outcome of this fight. . . . Do carry on.
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