Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion
Like a hundred times last year the City of Hope explosions was startled by a deafening and facade-destroying bang, and we don’t count the turn of the year and football matches. Popping money bars, destroyed Monopoly squares, exploding halls, popping kinks, exploding cafes, disintegrating doors, haunting books in detonerende Harbour Clubs: our capital has it all. An explosion every three and a half days on average. What an achievement. What a city.
