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If there are two things I hate in life it is marketing birds, people with stupid fucking names, SUFC, the Welsh, bald people, gingers, traffic cops, horses, yoghurt, sex, the Scotch and old age pensioners in shitty little foreign cars…
This book ticks two of my boxes. Marketing birds and silly names.
A shame, because it is a canny book. An interesting tale of a young officer and his journey. Written by somebody called Jonny. Nobody is called Jonny other than limp twats with funny haircuts who are waiting for their parents to die so they can inherit. Lets face it, if your Mum said you were called ‘Jonny’ you would lamp the bitch and say “Nah, you can call me Kev”.
Then we come to marketing Birds. This book is billed as “Sex in the City for Boys”. Elsewhere it is billed as “50 Shades of Grey for Men”. Who dreams up this shite? Marketing birds. You may be cute honey, but get a job in a chip shop. Because you are to flogging books what Kim Jong-Il was to stand up comedy. I am not a boy and 50 Shades was for bored middle class birds. So if men who buy books is your target market, I am somewhere over the horizon washing my flip-flops.
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How to get started as an ROV operator by Bert Haddock