i have been lucky enough to have multiple experiences of GEORGE.

i was still a child, holding onto my mother's coat in the reduced toys & books section of wolverhampton woolworths in 2005 when i was first struck with the incessant ringing. my eyes clouded over and a vulgar shriek erupted from my mouth as the word GEORGE. in fear i spat the name onto the floor and proceeded to have visions of my own death, as if reading a synopsis with only a single word. epiphanised, i scooped up the name of GEORGE from the floor where it had become a thick, chartreuse glue and i cradled it in my arms. GEORGE remained on my lips for what seemed like only twelve days and twelve nights where i subsisted off nothing but the euphoria of lingering proximity and remembrance of GEORGE. when i finally came to, it was 2011 and the woolworths had gone. my mother had aged beyond her years and my ears never stopped ringing.

GEORGE is eternal. GEORGE is universal. GEORGE was directly responsible for woolworths' 2008 financial crisis.