When I asked my sister why she was letting strangers look at her pants, she explained that she had become a radical feminist, like her idol Rihanna.
My teenage big sister used to love playing dressing up and tea parties with me, but now she prefers to hang about park benches with big boys on bikes and tell my parents 'to go fuck themselves'.
My boss is starting to realise that I am lazy and shit at my job.
"I was really disappointed to see that underneath her clothes she was
wearing cheap underwear from Primark. Why is it women have no
self-respect these days?"
"There's not much else yet, but that's because we were busy for a few
days writing death threats to Caroline Flack."
"How do I find out his yearly salary so I can decide if being crushed by a sweaty walrus is worth it?"
"I intend to break into his house, put on Alive and Kicking by Simple Minds at full volume, tie him to a chair with pretty tartan ribbon and then force feed him haggis until he bursts."
"First, and most important, you need at least one three-litre bottle of cheap cider."
"Will my statutory consumer rights be affected if I stab a checkout lady in the face?"
"I panicked and ended up telling her I wanted to blast my hot man juice all over her lovely long neck."
"I was thinking perhaps my profile needs work and I possibly shouldn't mention my tiny gnarled penis and my love of garrotting."
Now Christmas is over, my husband has lost his festive cheer and has gone back to his usual, miserable self...