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For my boy

All the world’s a stage. And you can either sit in the audience and throw tomatoes, and hiss and boo and rage. Or you can get up off your lazy arse and play a part, be small and insignificant as it may be, still you’ll be involved in the workings of the script, and as it rips and shreds, before you fall dead, you’ll have played in a most wonderful play. Continue Reading