If you are going to post a shit in a jiffy bag through someone’s letter box, make sure it isn’t one with your name and address on it.
Their weed is strong (from the smell), their beards are fluffy and their hopes are high. Students. Oh, Students.
Never in the history of the world has a woman heeded a warning that a man she has known for twenty minuets while drunk is a wanker, especially if she finds him really attractive.
I am like an overgrown toddler, only there is no none to make me a sticker chart. I might make one for myself – ten stickers and I can renew my Netflix subscription guilt free.
I am sick of the argument that if you are poor, how on earth can you be fat. CRAP FOOD IS DIRT CHEAP.
The trouble is, single men in their 30’s who have never been married or had children are hard to come by. On the whole it’s true that most of the good ones have been snapped up by savvy women while they were in their 20’s and are now blissfully happy married.
It probably didn’t help that I was absolutely shitfaced when pitching my title idea to them either. (Don’t judge me for drinking Crispin, I can see the white tide marks on your nostrils).
Never ever go in a hot tub, because you never know what people like Carol and John get up to in them.