She lives with a broken man. A cracked polystyrene man, who just crumbles and burns.
When I was around fourteen years old, I had cakes and a drink in Ozzy Osbourne's Mum's house. There's more to it than that, but on the sliding scale of the 'claim to fame' score-sheet, nothing more needs to be said.
2 parlez:
Fuck. That trumps my tea with Trev and Simon.
Come on cat, don't under-value it. After all, Trev and Simon were the dog's danglies in their day.
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