三级成人视频I can’t really remember memorable stuff, but I thought Instagram would help me. So, squatting next to a fake bamboo adorned with a single Christmas bauble in a rented flat in “Block B” somewhere in Salford, before playing a senile dog in a Christmas musical, I reviewed my last year in travel.
Useless. Alas, my snaps are all Uncle Griff’s slideshow stuff. The beautiful ones mean nothing (yup, that was a nice red shed somewhere near Wanaka in New Zealand, wasn’t it?) The modish, life-threatening selfies are just showing off. (What was I doing hanging backwards 200ft over Adelaide’s Australian football ground, anyway?) If something properly exciting happened, I was by definition excited, hanging on for dear life, and I missed the “Insta” bit.