tiresome bank business
the journal of Michael Werneburg
twenty-eight years and a million words
Toronto, 1999.10.20
I called the bank fukkas. They told me to go to my branch for a copy of the letter of standing. I said to myself 'Yeah, I bet'.
twenty-eight years and a million words
I called the bank fukkas. They told me to go to my branch for a copy of the letter of standing. I said to myself 'Yeah, I bet'.
...and when you try to get some, it surely can be hard. There's always trouble waiting, when you leave your own back yard.
—Motorhead, Lost Johnny (lyrics by Mick Farren)