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in today's paper. On top of learning about his thoughts on the McAteer bust-up, we're provided with revelations about his social skills (he's not an anti-social hermit, he's actually 'great craic'). But personally, I'm still reeling at the news that Cluxton, one of the hardest men in gaelic games, prefers the syrupy slop of WKD Blue over a man's drink like Beamish. WKD fucking Blue. Somewhere beneath that Sphinx-like gaze there is a 13-year-old girl dying to break out.
