Michelle, I sat outside your home last night, watching, waiting and weeping...as well as sifting through your dustbin.
Why did you come home at 5am? The door handle tasted of fags, booze and old 2 pence pieces.
Have you been chatting up other men? I thought you said I was the only man for you. It was right before I gave you $200 for 'services' but you said that you just needed the money to get your crusty thighs scraped and creosoted and then you said we would run away to Nebraska together.
Answer that you stinking frenchman...!!!!
P.s No Nebraskan's or Frenchmen were harmed in the writing of this post.
Nebraska is a wonderful place and every frenchman I've ever spoken to has been polite, courteous, didn't smell of sweat or garlic and was not at all arrogant, ignorant or self centered.
P.P.s Honestly now, The French rock and wish that UK people were similar especially when it comes to protesting against rogue governments...lol Angry french farmers, angry french truckers, angry french nuns.
Michelle...The angry, french nun.....crap, I think I've just answered my own question.......God, this glue is a bit strong....(sniff, cough, sniff, huff, huff, hufffff!!! cough!!!!..............)