Being a Tall Woman Does Not Make Me a Transvestite

I am resigned to sitting at home, marinating in my own ineptitude, stuffing my face with obscene quantities of black forest gateau and pickled onion monster munch, accompanied by my ever-expanding big fat tub of lard arse, weeping at repeats of The Bachelor, whilst reminiscing over what could have been if only my inside leg measurement wasn’t 36 inches long.

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