While the world clamoured over where Princess Catherine was, shared conspiracy theories about photoshopped images and basically lost its mind. I watched The Great British Bake Off. Now firstly, I wish Catherine all the healing in the world, what a shitty thing to happen but can we please move on and leave her and her family the hell alone? and honestly who gives two honks about photoshopped pictures either? There are more important things to focus on like my first attempt at Paul Hollywood’s Soda Bread recipe. A famous Irish bread heralding from the Victorian Era, it is made quickly by combining flour, salt, buttermilk and bicarbonate soda. Sounds delicious? Trust me it is. Now because I was following Paul ‘blue eyes that bore into your soul’ Hollywood’s recipe where he suggests, once you have the hang of the basic bread recipe to try adding raw onion and vintage cheese, I added said raw onion and cheese on my first attempt. I am not patient. I have never made a loaf of bread that wasn’t doughy or undercooked and this was no exception. It looked appealing enough and despite my lack of baking success, it was tasty indeed! My son did say it tasted ‘too vegetably,’ but my daughter wolfed it down asking me to make it again. This I will do, one, because I quite enjoy baking and two, because everything is so fucking expensive these days! I could buy a shit loaf of Wonder White for $3.50, which I am not bagging, this bread has its place (fairy bread anyone?) but to fill my kid’s stomachs, I need something more substantial and who can afford sourdough anymore? Who can afford anything anymore? Unless you are part of the 1%. I did a tiny top up shop yesterday, came home with basically nothing and it cost me $100. It is madness and I am mad about it. I know there is an inquiry going on about supermarket prices but in the meantime, families struggle to put food on the table. It did tickle my fancy when out of touch (former) CEO of Woolworths Brad Banducci completely stuffed up his Four Corners interview about price gouging and was forced to resign. But the prices are still sky high. I’d go on Bake Off to make some dough (see what I did there?) even though I can’t bake but all they get is a cake stand. Oh, and the book deals and TV opportunities...hmm maybe? Maybe I could go on Wheel of Fortune? I hear Graham Norton is hosting it over in the UK for Australia? Is that correct. Well, I’d have to go to the UK I guess but who can afford a passport renewal? Plus, I don’t watch ‘normal’ TV except for some cheeky MAFS on 9play. Can anyone stand Jack or Jono? There has to be some way to combat the insane cost of living. I do almost all I can being a homebody, who has a small, slightly ineffective vegetable garden, chickens and a baking habit but it’s not enough. Is there a market for Only Fans - Bad Bakers? I’ll investigate. I realise I have gone on some tangents here, but I have ADHD, so who could blame me. And I am speaking in jest, my bread making attempts are not important at all. Till next time. Free Palestine. Peace
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When I was a wee lass, both my parents worked full time. I was a latchkey kid through and through. I got myself to and from school, went without lunch at school if I didn’t make it, hung out at home alone until a parent finished work or came home from the pub, and got up to so much trouble because I basically wasn’t parented or supervised. That was the 80s. Bloody hell is it different these days. Now I am a single mum, I have two kids, one of whom is neurodiverse and home-schooling. I don’t remember the last time I had a day off, a day without financial, emotional and physical stress or a day I had family around to help out. Well let’s be honest, I’ve never had that. Both my parents passed before my kids were born. My dad was of the ‘Greatest Generation’ my mother of the ‘Silent Generation’. I’m not exactly sure what that all means but I can say these Pre Boomer parents, their values, their learned parenting was wildly different to the helicopter parenting of today but then again it was a different world then. And no, I’m not THAT old, crikey, I was adopted. I’m not sure which I prefer, I loved so much about growing up when I did. As I age, I sit more in a nostalgic haze, blissfully wishing those days back. I wish my kids had some of that magic. Pre-screens, phones, Tik Tok… I feel that we as parents have to be much more on guard now. Are there more predators or are we just taking more notice now? Is bullying worse or are we just talking about it more now? Are kids suffering more from mental health issues or are we more open about it now? I have my own theories, based on my lived experience but what do you think? It is a heavy burden, parenting these days. Seeing the world cave in on itself, beat itself up over and over. We humans are a stupid bunch. What are we leaving for our kids? Is it selfish to have brought them into this world? Sometimes I think it is. But maybe, I should sit more in hope, hope that these kids will carry the torch and when all the dickheads die, will start fixing this planet up again. Out with the old in with the new. I’m all for it, after all they cannot do any worse than we have been doing. I’m going to find some leg warmers, put on Xanadu and escape for a while now. I suggest you do the same. Peace. Children ruined my Career There I said it, they killed it dead in its tracks. I agree wholeheartedly with Lily Allen. In case you missed it, she recently said in an interview, "I never really had a strategy when it comes to career, but yes, my children ruined my career. I love them and they complete me, but in terms of pop-stardom, they totally ruined it.” Now I don’t have Lily Allen’s fame, money, celebrity status or David Harbour as a husband, but I am also a singer, actor, blah blah blah. Or I was until I had my kids. Once they came along, any resemblance of a creative career for me went by the wayside. Having a neurodiverse son was part of it, but let’s face it, when it comes to kids and domestic duties, the majority if not all of the responsibility falls on the woman most of the time. It’s not right, it's not fair, in fact it’s a load of toss but it is how it is. It was and is difficult for me to see the world move on, to see careers take off, or at least maintain a status quo while mine is laying in a ditch by the M4 choking on exhaust fumes, but like Lily Allen, I made a choice. As she said, “Some people choose their career over their children and that’s their prerogative, but my parents were quite absent when I was a kid. I feel that really left some nasty scars that I’m not willing to repeat on mine. I chose stepping back and concentrating on them and I’m glad I’ve done that.” Same here Lily, same here. I did choose to put my kids first and still do, but to be brutally honest, I also don’t have a choice. I have no family to help me and have 100% care of my kids, so when the fuck would I have time to get out there and perform? I could have hired babysitter’s, but my neurodiverse son wouldn’t have coped with that. I could have done it anyway, but as I said, I put them first. I was a latchkey kid, born in the 70s and a teenager in the 80s, there are so many things I love about the 80’s but the absence of parenting was not one of them, there are many things I did, or that I experienced that I wish had not happened, so I chose to do things very differently. Now I don’t think I deserve a medal for doing so, I applaud women who can make strides in their careers (yeah I’m jealous too) and manage a family but that simply wasn’t the case for me. Having a messy brain doesn’t help, I get overwhelmed easily, so trying to juggle too much just means I shut down and sit in paralysis and that sucks. There is only so much I can handle on my own. However, my kids are getting older, (imagine that!) the youngest twelve now, so slowly I will be able to reclaim some time for my creative work and the blessing is, that the bond I have with my kids, the connection, the memories, the love is so bloody strong, I know I am lucky as fuck. So, here’s to women who can ‘have it all’ I don’t know how you do it! I’ll just sit here with my tea thinking Lily Allen and I are friends and that David Harbour has a nice single brother… I signed a petition today, it is urging the Australian Government to put more funding into gynaecological care for women. Specifically, to help diagnose and treat endometriosis. For so long now women’s gynaecological health issues have not been treated with the care and respect they deserve, they are not considered disabilities and certainly not considered intensely painful, severe, and often incredibly debilitating. So, I am glad to see this awareness being spread on a popular news site with links to the petition.
I don’t suffer from endometriosis but I do suffer from adenomyosis. Whereas endo is a disease in which tissue similar to the lining of the uterus grows outside of the uterus, adeno is a disease where the endometrial tissues in the lining of the uterus grows into the muscular wall of the uterus, enlarging it and causing very heavy bleeds. It also can cause pain and fertility problems. I don’t really ever hear anything about adenomyosis and I myself had never heard of it before getting my own diagnosis years back. I cannot speak to the pain of endo because my pain is manageable, the bleeding not so much. I have needed iron infusions, have had anaemia and am constantly battling a low iron count and not to mention the thousands I have spent on sanitary products, despite the GST being removed in 2019. I am tired all the time, anxious as each cycle rolls around and really over it. So much so, in an effort to deal with my adenomyosis, I am headed to hospital this week to have an ablation, an ablation is a procedure where they burn the lining of your uterus to hopefully avoid future periods. I liken it to having a flame thrower delicately placed up your cervix. I tried other methods previously, such as a Mirena, but it didn’t stop the bleeding and I can’t take the pill due to my age, so off to hospital I go. Fingers crossed it works! I really wish the shame around women’s gynaecology would piss off. I remember hiding tampons and pads up my sleeve at school, or when out so no one would know I had my period. I think I still do that to some extent. It’s bollocks, it’s normal and natural and there should be no shame. I remember bleeding all over my school uniform and being laughed at because it was shameful. I remember when I got my first period, I rang my friend and she handed me a pack of pads through my bedroom window because I was too scared to tell my parents, how mad is that! But in my defense, they had never talked to me about periods, so I was clueless. Let’s talk about it, let’s farewell the shame, let’s take women’s health seriously. Let’s have free sanitary products in all schools and public toilets. Period poverty is also a real issue, women are struggling to afford to buy sanitary products and necessary pain relief. So come on Government, pony up with some extra dosh for women and their Vah-jay-jay’s and while you’re at it, be like Scotland and make period products free for those who need them! Let’s end period poverty. #periods #menstruation # noshame #tampons # endometriosis #adenomyosis #periodpoverty #genx #80s Alas, that is a paradox. A Gen X brain is rarely balanced because we grew up without any mental health support at all. Not even a conversation over a cuppa and a bikkie. Not a single Zoloft in sight. What a rort right? We grew up, ‘getting on with it’ and consequently grew up tough and independent. These are not bad traits I don’t believe, but we do spend hours in therapy trying to understand why we were allowed to watch Freddy Kruger at age 9, stay home alone for hours at 10, go out clubbing at 14 and basically live lives devoid of parenting and emotional support. (or is it just me?) We can’t blame our parents too much, that’s just the way it was. They worked, they had a mortgage to pay. They were also ignored by their parents, so they didn’t know much better. No one recognised depression, anxiety, bipolar, autism, ADHD or if they did it was all hush hush. Too much shame, too much unknown. ‘Cheer Up, you’ll be right’ right? ‘He is just naughty!’ ‘She is weird!’ I didn’t get any of my diagnosis until I was in my 20’s when I took myself off to the Dr to find out why I struggled so much. I wonder if I was given support as a kid, if things would have been different? Maybe, but I don’t wallow… anymore. I think you have to embrace whatever it is that makes you you. Get the help and support you need, talk about it, take your meds, don’t be shamed, live a healthy life and don’t beat yourself up. I lived in shame for many years due to the stigma around mental illness and the weaponisation of my diagnosis against me by people who wanted fodder for their abusive behaviour. But I’m too smart for that now, too feisty and ‘independent’. See after all, what a good thing to be! I’ve grown into someone formidable, in my mind at least anyway. I don’t care if I am told I am too loud, too opinionated, too old, too fat, too nasty, too nice, too, too emotional, too independent, too anything. I have earned that right, to be all and any of those things. I’m drawn to strong women, women who speak their mind, who speak up for others, who are considered slightly unhinged because they have confidence. Women who speak up are often viciously silenced. It’s boring. So don’t be silent. Be authentically you. Warts and All Baby. As for my brain, it’s a work in progress, but I love the damn thing. Peace. I confess I like almost every other parent in Australia tried to score Swift tickets for my daughter. I lost days of my life to this. That bloody Ticketek, I never want to see it ever again. What a cruel bitch it is. I tried other sites but got scared after Ticketek told us they wouldn’t let us in if we had those tickets. I almost got scammed on Facebook, I tried the last minute resells, I entered every competition I could find, and I failed. At all of it. I saw people who had tickets trying to get more tickets to go twice, that pissed me off. But what really pissed me off was how expensive it all was. Let’s consider that a huge proportion of Swift’s fan base are tweens, and some tickets were literally a thousand and up, it felt cruel. She has such a loyal and dedicated fan base who would do anything to get tickets, including going into debt, going without food, putting themselves in very shitty financial situations all to score tickets to Tay Tay. And Swift, who I completely acknowledge is working her ass off, is getting billions out of this. I also acknowledge she has a lot of people to pay and touring costs a lot of money but still... Then there’s the merchandise, $40 for a plastic drink bottle? $40 for an oversized tea towel? Come on. People can’t even afford to live right now. Its gross. When did everything become so expensive. When did it cost $20000 to see your favourite artist perform, as I have seen one man pay. When did Air BnB’s start cancelling bookings so they could relist at twice the price? It is insane. I sincerely hope everyone who goes along gets their money’s worth and has a damn good time. I mean she is performing for over 3 hours. I hope people don’t get smashed with hail as the Sydney weather is predicting. I hope beautiful memories are made, but I’m still pissed. I do feel conflicted about my bitterness, I am all for raising up other women, or so I thought. Maybe if we had succeeded and I was going to the concert I wouldn’t feel so cynical? But I couldn’t help but feel it was a little off using the Grammys to announce her next album. It is a night to celebrate ALL artists and in that moment, it became the Taylor show. But then again, the world is the Taylor show right now isn’t it? And maybe I am just being sour, maybe jealous? I mean on the flip side, bloody good on her, she is killing it. So now I am avoiding social media until she fucks off out of the country as it only makes me feel worse seeing all the videos of the concert we didn’t get to see. So don’t send me any videos, I’ll just pout and complain. #cruelsummer #badblood #lookwhatyoumademedo I took my daughter to her very first concert last night - Melanie Martinez. Now I didn’t know a hell of a lot about Melanie but I did know in her current incarnation she wore odd looking masks and costumes, which I loved, I liked what I had heard of her music and I was very intrigued. My daughter is a huge fan and was beyond excited and considering I like a million other parents failed to get Swift tickets, I was glad I could do this for her.
I vaguely remember my first concert, it was The Cockroaches (now known as The Wiggles) and some other Aussie bands I can’t remember now. Maybe The Radiators? But my kids are kind of impressed when I tell them who I have seen in concert being a Gen X kid. Especially Michael Jackson, because he is probably the one 80’s artist they know the best, and sadly not for his music alone. They stare blankly when I say, ‘Hey I also saw Cyndi Lauper, Prince, Pearl Jam, Kylie Minogue, Pink, Stevie Wonder, Chaka Khan, U2, KISS, Dandy Warhols, Tegan and Sara, Indigo Girls’ and others I don’t recall. I get it, I’m old. But experiencing the moment of my daughters first ever concert, sharing that with her was all kinds of wonderful. The venue was packed full of gorgeously dressed humans, not a single person didn’t shine with some sort of magic and excitement. It felt safe and beautiful. The support act Upsahl was on bloody fire! I had never heard of her, but she was brilliant, and we were both instant fans. But the room exploded (not literally) when Melanie came on, my ears are still ringing, my daughters voice hoarse. Onto stage came this tiny (we were far from the stage) little pixie with four eyes and huge ears accompanied by four stunning dancers. It was theatrical and magical. We were transported to another dimension, which was the whole point being the album was titled Portals and it was the Portals tour. The songs were gorgeous too, her voice relaxed and unique. I didn’t know that she once graced the stage on The Voice subsequently choosing Adam Levine as her mentor. I just watched her initial audition, hang on, correction, it wasn’t an audition but a completely polished performance. You could easily see what a creative force and star she was at only 17 years old. Check it out. But most of all, most importantly, my daughter had the time of her life. Melanie is by far her favourite artist, even over Taylor. She cried, sung, screamed and gushed love and appreciation all night. She clutched her overpriced merch with passion and I know it is a memory forever imprinted in her mind and I am part of that! What a fucking privilege. So, thank you Melanie, and please come back soon. You brought so much love and magic to us and thank you for ending the night with a show of support for Palestine and our queer community. Ps – If you could find your way to send my daughter some of the confetti you release at the end of the show, she would be ecstatic. Unfortunately when we went to retrieve some, the security wouldn’t let us. #freepalestine #melaniemartinez #portals #portalstouraustralia #sydney #pride #queer #music #thevoice #talent #memories #magic #beauty #upsahl #thewiggles #thecockroaches Do I wish you a Happy New year? It feels kind of off right now, but I do. I do wish this year is happy for you, better for all. I even made some ‘semi’ resolutions, I don’t call them that because they never work. I am making some gradual life shifts instead. Honestly, thank fuck 2023 is over. It was one of the most stressful years of my life and I am one of the ‘lucky’ ones. But everyone is feeling it right now, aren’t they? It seems to cost an unattainable and offensive amount of money to feed your family, to pay the bills, to put petrol in the car, to do the things that were once more manageable. Interest rates? I can’t keep up. Daily coffees, an occasional movie, some nice Thai takeaway food? Forget about it. regular groceries would be nice. (Obnoxious first world problems hey) It is time for some major shifts, a move away from all the bullshit and greed. There is a strong yearning in me for a simpler, healthier and more peaceful life. To find a more affordable way of living, a deeper way of connecting with nature and others and sending a big middle finger to the corporations, banks and rich folk actively destroying our lives. Greedy buggers, I am sick of them. This year, I’m focussing on my health, my home, my kids and my creative work. I’m keen to revamp and expand my vegetable garden to help reduce grocery costs, have access to fresher, healthier produce and to be a little more self-sufficient. The supermarkets are out of control, and I don’t want any part of them. I’ll focus more on bulk buying, cooking from scratch, getting rid of processed food as much as possible (there are some things my kids won’t part with!) and reducing my use of plastics. I’ll actually compost this year and not just produce a tower of stinky sludge and I’ll barter what I can for what I want. This way of living really appeals to me. I would really like my kids and theirs, if they decide to have them, to have a healthy planet to live on when I am long gone. But I fear it may be too late. I hope I am wrong. My creative work over the past year is coming to fruition and will hopefully begin its journey out into the world, that’s fucking scary but the goal nonetheless. I need to be braver, because I often say things that pisses people off, and I care way too much what people think. I am a person who easily offends, who speaks too quickly, too abruptly at times. It is a flaw I am aware of. Is it a flaw? My words are not subtle and I refuse to shy away from the hard things. I admit this way of living stresses me out at times, but I will continue to create, to write, to speak. I’ll read more because as a writer, you must read. I’ll teach more, because people loving to sing makes me happy and I’ll write more music because without it I can’t exist. I’m not on socials right now for several reasons but will return soon, to a lesser extent. I existed for decades without it and can do so again. I’ll put my phone in a drawer, it’s a convenient but irritating thing. Once upon a time, ‘back in my day,’ we would just take the phone off the hook. Done. I’ll walk more, I have two dogs that need exercising now. (Aren’t they cute?) My little home is complete. I’ll look for little pockets of joy and sink into them. It could be sipping a hot cup of tea under a blanket, reading a new book that enthrals me, a new song I can’t stop playing on repeat, a chat with a friend that makes me laugh so hard I pee. I’m at that age now. I bloody love it. I’m grateful to be able to grow old, to pluck the chin hairs, to see my kids grow up. Many aren’t that lucky. Most importantly, I acknowledge how fortunate I am to be able to write these things down as my focus for the year, that I am not spending my days dodging bullets and bombs and destruction. I’m not losing my family and friends, or losing my home. I am so fucking lucky. I acknowledge that I am blessed to have a home, that my children are safe and no matter how much we struggle it is nothing compared to some. Watching the world in chaos on a screen is surreal and traumatising, and it is so easy to disconnect, to keep scrolling, but please don’t. Those who are suffering need our voices, our help. I have actively lost people from my life this year for speaking up and out, but I won’t stop. I won’t ‘shut my mouth’ as I have been told. How can I truly live in peace when others can’t? I wish it for you, I wish it for all. Liz x Making the conscious decision to focus on the ‘brighter side of life’ can be a brave one. It takes energy, effort, refocusing, constantly reminding oneself to quit negative chatter and to try and find those often-elusive silver linings, but is it worth the effort? Sometimes life exhausts the shit out of me, lately it has. For starters our family dog died, which ripped all our hearts out in one swift motion. Secondly, I had to put a pause on the building of my beloved studio while I sort out some other priorities like feeding my children, dealing with unnecessary drama and paying for ever rising electricity costs (it’s a joke right?) So the thought of sitting back, sipping on my beloved cacao and journaling made my stomach churn and that is fine. Because sometimes life kicks you in the balls, and it is bloody okay to sit back and watch Schitt’s Creek while eating some Hagen Daas and crying. It is normal to experience a range of emotions, to feel anger, sadness and grief as well as happiness, excitement and hope. We are, if you believe as I do, spiritual beings having a human experience and being a human is a hard bloody job. For starters we were gifted with the self-awareness that we will die, I mean wtf is that about? Oh to be a cat and live in sweet oblivion. It is normal to have days, weeks, months even when life feel like it is too much, when it seems like everything and everyone is throwing shit your way – honestly some people have nothing better to do, but that’s more about them than you. Now I am not one of those manifesting woo-woo lovers that will fill my social media with linen wearing, perfect house, no cloudy day vibes. Firstly, I only wear black, my house is a mess and honesty is more helpful than that bullshit. Because what do you think then? When you are covered in chip crumbs looking at someone’s fake perfect life? I say in the bin with it. But this is what I think, don’t sit in the mucky muck for too long. Honour your feelings, scream, cry, overindulge in chocolate, ask God wtf? But then when you are ready, put on some tunes you love, wash your face, jump around and come back to the present. Because the good and bad thing about the Universe and the Law of Attraction is that what you put out you attract. If you keep putting out that life is shit and you only have bad luck, then some more of that will come your way. I am NOT saying it is your fault, because bad things happen. It is not your fault. What I am saying is that you have the power to turn it around, because remember what you put out you attract, so if you put out some goodness, that’s what will come back and that is great fucking news. It is worth it, to pull yourself out of your funk, to believe that good things are coming your way, to believe you are worth it, because you are, to believe you deserve more than what has been dished out to you of late because you do, to believe you can have an amazing bloody life, because you can. And to those that try and bring you down, well karma’s a bitch baby. Peace. Ps – If you want 111 more ideas on how to get out of your funk, grab my little book here: https://amzn.to/47TGwEtc (affiliate link) I was going to add a trigger warning to this post but what would it be? TW – God is an asshole? TW – Sick pedos not sick kids? TW – Dying animals and stupid men with beards? I gave up, but you have been warned. Anyone who has pets at home and adores them like my family does knows how heartbreaking it is when one of them gets ill or passes away. It doesn’t matter if they are a guinea pig, a cat, a dog or even a bin chicken, well it doesn’t matter to us. They are all beautiful and we love them madly. That is why is sucks ass that our beautiful cocker spaniel Juno is currently in hospital critically ill. We have had her for about eight years and she is loyal, sooky, loving and quite mental. A bit like us really. It all happened so quickly, one minute she was fine happily eating her favourite roast chook and the next minute she was vomiting blood and bleeding from her eyes. Now I love horror movies but this was not okay. Apparently, after some initial testing, she has an auto immune disease which unfortunately may be secondary to cancer, we are investigating further today or rather the vets are and I am sitting here anxiously waiting for their follow up call. It is a bloody rough lot isn’t it when those who seems so vulnerable get sick, like children and animals, and if anyone utters the inane sentence, ‘oh but things happen for a reason,’ I will politely throw a cow pat in their face. If I was to believe in a God that sits on a throne with a long white beard deciding who deserves to live or die (I don’t) I would be mighty pissed at him right now. I mean I have seen my fair share of death in my life, and I don’t mean just animals. I saw my mother ravaged by cancer and my father destroyed by dementia. Now come on, what sort of fucking god would wilfully inflict that on those he ‘created’. Now my Dad enjoyed way too many ‘cheeky’ beers in his time and my Mum was as warm as a frozen fish finger from the over frozen garage freezer, but they didn’t deserve that. No one does, except pedos, murderers and rapists right? And sick kids, forget it, that is the ultimate cruelty. The ultimate injustice. I believe in karma but I refuse to believe that some bad karma in a past life made a child sick in this life, or that there is some plan we just can’t see, what a load of toss, ‘But things happen for a reason…’ Shut the fuck up. Now I know I am mixing religions and belief systems here but that is my brain, it’s a fucking mess in here, but it’s all mine. I want to set some new Universal laws because there has to be some sort of levelling out of karma and dishing out of disease. Let’s keep our beautiful animals well, our children free from harm, our dysfunctional parents alive and send it to the worst of the worst. We don’t need death penalties, just a deal with the supposed ‘big man’ upstairs to pinky swear that when he is deciding who gets sick and dies, he remembers those who are the scum at the bottom of an outback toilet and gives it to them. Not to someone’s daughter, someone’s son, someone’s parent or someone’s puppy. I know this may sound harsh, but if anyone deserves to suffer, it’s that cluster fuck of vermin, isn’t it? Those who wilfully and happily inflict pain and suffering on others? I mean I would prefer it if they just weren’t horrendous arseholes, but they are. This God some folks believe in can learn a thing or two from Santa, the other mystical man with a long beard and a beer gut. Even he knows to keep a list of who is naughty and nice. It’s not that hard, I swear if God was a woman this shit wouldn’t happening, but that is another rant for another day. So, for fucks sake God, get it right. Peace. |
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