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flups.bsky.social
50% fat, 30% bosoms, 20% muppet.
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WORD OF THE DAY. Exit. Former scary clown.

This last week has been like the end of Wayne’s World with everything going tits up, causing me a metric shit tonne of stress. I’d very much like to end the week on a positive note so if you could get Greg Davies to ask me out to dinner, I’d appreciate it.

TIMELINE CLEANSE! One week old Milton/Mildred.

At first, Jean-Michel Jarre found therapy difficult. However, after being run under the hot tap he soon opened up.

Set list: - Born In The U.S.Hey Jude - Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Dancing In The Dark - Streets Of Philadelphia, There and Everywhere -Help! I’m On Fire.

Warwick is lovely but it’s not *that* exciting.

Whilst driving home yesterday, the sky was full of scary looking clouds. I questioned whether they were a sign of an impending apocalypse and Middledaught said “I hope so, the world is shite”. It’s heartbreaking that at only eighteen, she believes the world ending is the best option available.

And lo, did the universe look down upon the fat muppet and decide that she had not endured enough utter bollocks during the last week and so verily did make someone reverse at speed off their drive without looking and hit her car whilst she was on the way to work this very morn.

My TL is awash with Trump and Musk. It’s effectively the aroma of a teenage boy’s bedroom.

AMUSE your offspring during a power cut by continually asking them to make you a cup of tea and put the telly on.

I have just weighed myself and have lost…two whole stone and five whole pounds of the three stone I put on after Christmas. Another two and a half to go until I feel moderately happy with how less fat I am.