Twenty three years ago I did a monumentally heinous thing – I composed a hate poem for my mother. And…
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Mum's casserole, no. Boogers, yes. Roast pumpkin, no. Dust bunnies, yes.
Then I got hit with a truth bomb that was about to blow my world apart. A man was seized,…
I've had enough of getting smugged by sanctimummies. Any danger you might be one?
If you’ve ever had your ideas stolen by a colleague and presented as their own work – or they’ve taken…
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