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1.
I keep hitting my head on ceiling lights. My Mum has this thing about fancy light decorations, so our hallway and living room lights are chandelier-esque, which means my head clips them easily if I'm not paying attention.
Not being able to walk around own house properly + Mother's taste in light decoration = mongy son
Which leads me tastefully onto the next item:
2.
I accidentally took the p*ss out of a disabled kid at the weekend. It wasn't my fault, he had his back to me and he was dancing sensually around a wooden pole with a lady, in a crowded pub of all places. Then he turned round, and after a few seconds I realised he wasn't pulling a face at me and genuinely had Jade Goody Syndrome (Down's in Leyman's terms). I felt like such a b*stard, but he was really enjoying himself, so all is forgiven.
I keep hitting my head on ceiling lights. My Mum has this thing about fancy light decorations, so our hallway and living room lights are chandelier-esque, which means my head clips them easily if I'm not paying attention.
Not being able to walk around own house properly + Mother's taste in light decoration = mongy son
Which leads me tastefully onto the next item:
2.
I accidentally took the p*ss out of a disabled kid at the weekend. It wasn't my fault, he had his back to me and he was dancing sensually around a wooden pole with a lady, in a crowded pub of all places. Then he turned round, and after a few seconds I realised he wasn't pulling a face at me and genuinely had Jade Goody Syndrome (Down's in Leyman's terms). I felt like such a b*stard, but he was really enjoying himself, so all is forgiven.
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1.
I keep hitting my head on ceiling lights. My Mum has this thing about fancy light decorations, so our hallway and living room lights are chandelier-esque, which means my head clips them easily if I'm not paying attention.
Not being able to walk around own house properly + Mother's taste in light decoration = mongy son
Which leads me tastefully onto the next item:
2.
I accidentally took the p*ss out of a disabled kid at the weekend. It wasn't my fault, he had his back to me and he was dancing sensually around a wooden pole with a lady, in a crowded pub of all places. Then he turned round, and after a few seconds I realised he wasn't pulling a face at me and genuinely had Jade Goody Syndrome (Down's in Leyman's terms). I felt like such a b*stard, but he was really enjoying himself, so all is forgiven.
I keep hitting my head on ceiling lights. My Mum has this thing about fancy light decorations, so our hallway and living room lights are chandelier-esque, which means my head clips them easily if I'm not paying attention.
Not being able to walk around own house properly + Mother's taste in light decoration = mongy son
Which leads me tastefully onto the next item:
2.
I accidentally took the p*ss out of a disabled kid at the weekend. It wasn't my fault, he had his back to me and he was dancing sensually around a wooden pole with a lady, in a crowded pub of all places. Then he turned round, and after a few seconds I realised he wasn't pulling a face at me and genuinely had Jade Goody Syndrome (Down's in Leyman's terms). I felt like such a b*stard, but he was really enjoying himself, so all is forgiven.
Page: