type 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
It’s the eight o’clock buzzer. A signal we must begin.
Roll out of bed, stretch a leg, pull out your pecker and piss out a half liter plus, while anchor-boy on the radio brings news of a coup d’état, somewhere, East. But not to worry. No declarations of war; Ukraine gas will flare up under your fancy little Italian percolator as per spec.