There are many occasions when we are lying in our beds in the hecklerspray bedsit that we dream of all being close enough to want to do things together. We lie in our dirt-covered sleeping bags and dream about frolicking through meadows like boisterous school children from an Enid Blyton novel (but not racist). Flying kites, kicking footballs around and laughing like drains when Joanna Bolouri decks it over an electric fence.
Of course, the stark reality upon waking is a world where we are all mercilessly beaten into providing words by an overlord that makes Blofeld look about as dangerous as one of Alan Carr’s teeth.
We wish we could develop bonds and friendships within the hecklerspray team… we wish… we wish we could be like One Direction.
