Single? What’s WRONG with Him?

It’s like they have a picture in their mind of me sitting at home every night in my underwear, in a room lit by candles, eating meatloaf flavoured ice-cream from a paper plate, with my pet rat Eugene on my shoulder, my feet in one of those foot spas, a little ‘Enya’ playing in the background and some strategically placed cushions with images of my ex-girlfriends embroidered on them, lying around the room.

More: continued here

Posted in History 6.12.2007 on 09:12.


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