If I don't know you, please don't add me. Thanks!
Si je te connais pas, n'ajoutes moi pas... merci!
I have it on good authority that I was the product of a mismatched romance between a ring of wire wool and a long stretch of 2x4, neither of which could go any way to explaining my mother (who is mad and excellent).Perpetually lazy, I have been known to move when prodded or taunted. A pint of cask is normally a good way to wake me up.General intake and way to my heart: food. As a friend recently put it, "you're the kind of person that likes to leave a foreign-based restaurant in pain". I have the metabolism of an adolescent which I will thank myself for until I'm 30, when I suppose I shall have to introduce myself to the inside of a gym.Somehow I graduated university with a 2:1 in music, and then moved to Paris for a year some 18 months ago. I worked as a manager at a bar around the corner from my delightful Parisian abode, which I share with Slutfish and the only cat I have ever disliked. At present, I am self-employed and a sales manager for a magazine. (No, you haven't heard of it.)I am a self-proclaimed arse-bandit but don't get me wrong: I hate you all, you filthy fags, and you will burn in the fires of hell. See you there. (Bring lube.)
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