On the Futility of Blogging

I remember filling a time capsule in primary school. Our teachers were getting superstitious about the approaching new millenium so of course we set about collecting artifacts to preserve – tatty football stickers, broken tamagotchis, old conkers – and wrote explanatory notes addressed in hope to any rogue aliens: “Manchester United won the league but nobody likes them. I hope the future has flying skateboards in it”.

We buried them in the far corner of the playing field under the tree with the old condom hanging on it.

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