Okay, I am 56, hurts to say that somedays when I am hurting all over from whatever maladies I have, but I can look into the mirror and say I have no regrets because I am me, all over, no Botox, plastic injections, my breasts sag and hang like thieves on a lover's cross, but who cares, I don't.
What has the world come to? Really, will someone tell me. I don't get the world anymore, I think I am an alien.
Friday, February 26, 2010
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