Sometimes (only sometimes) you wish you were a totally different person; raise your clenched fist in the air, cursing at those horrible boys who told the whole 'hood you were a 'ho then forget it with 2 bacardi breezer (because you are wild like that), slip on your best pink tracksuit bottoms and hit the back of the nightbus and let your crappy nokia blast a 36bit version of Rihanna's latest hit. Well I do (not really).
This post is dedicated to the vicky pollards of the world.
This post is dedicated to the vicky pollards of the world.
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