When I was at school, we did a play for assembly, which had a happy ending.
Imagine my surprise, when 20 years later...
When I was at school, my PE teacher said that rugby and cross-country running were hard sports.
Imagine my surprise, when 20 years later...
When I was at school, I was studying music, but I left my brass instrument out in the rain and began to oxidise.
Imagine my surprise, when 20 years later I was offered a rusty trombone...
A WG had her price list set at £115 for one hour. I only had five £20 notes and two £10 notes on me. Do I get a fiver?
These gentlemen clubs are a joke. The ones I often frequent are always full of women. And I might add they don't wear a great deal of clothing either.
Hat's off to these so called "working" girls. If by working you mean uploading one blury photo of you in a bikini from 15 years ago when you went slagging it in Ibiza, dusting the cobwebs off your fanny and never answering your fucking phone, it's no wonder the country is in the state it's in.