Goodbye coronation chicken. Goodbye Mole. Body image sorry Jonathan ross.
My friend guitar. It was bad timing to go to complimentary therapies. Goodbye team physio. Me in my baggy scraggy jeans and skating attire t shirts. My mother always harped on about dull and dowdy clothes. I didn't want to be a limp biskit. Plus I thought I was too fat to weat skinny jeans and leggings so I went back to slightly flared and baggy.
Always ahead and competition. Chips. I didn't like mayo, sauces and processed sandwiches and I ate enough red meat at home. I just loved bread and fruit. I could eat a whole dry fruit loaf. My mum wasn't good at cooking pasta or omelette. Chippie. Lights.
Goodbye ***** faced. Me dressed all grungy.
Verdict. Goodbye angelic equation. You liked the alternative loo girl with dreads. I looked normal compared to her. Thought they would be bigger. Like wise. Walkers. I told no-one. And Alladin said I was a stirrer . I like having privacy. Goodbye math shades. Dragons, again I am sorry. But I knew you were up to something and was only matter of time.