Fresh Face

Sometimes the only memory of a slightly fuzzy evening can be the awkwardly long and sickening taxi ride home. Whilst choosing if your head should be perched out the window or lolled in between your legs, you wonder: ‘what the fudge is that smell?!’. You look up and see a mega-mix of Magic Tree’s hanging from the rear view mirror and that weird stain on floor. You swiftly leave the cab giving them a 1 star. You’ve had enough of its eau-de-‘toilet’.