REMEMBERING JOHN LENNON

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You American bast'd psychos murdered our most famous son.

We demand compensation yo.

Fine. Moving into your spare room next week.

Be careful what you ask for. I'll bring the tenor sax.

Seriously, the clock came on next to my bed at 6 AM and said "John Lennon is dead." It wasn't a good time already, and it got worse quickly. Life's a crazy thing, innit? He seemed a good sort to this one who didn't know him at all, but liked his work a lot. Fame is a mixed blessing at best.
 
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