The real love of my life was Harold Shipman. We were cell mates in Wandsworth prison. We used to poke a finger of fudge up each others dirt boxes and then snuggle up and fed each other the fudge.
Those were the days!
RIP Harold my true love ❤️
Me muva dropped me on me head.
Me pappi poked his sausage in me nose and gave me a liquid surprise.
I love dressing up in mummys dresses and underskirts and frilly underwear. Pappi likes it 2.
Pappi says i is his pretty little Germy.
Germy would often park this rust bucket outside of my ground floor bedroom window with the lights on full blast. If ever I would dare to look all I could see was the the condensation from his breath on the window and the outline of a chastity belt.
2 Corinthians 4:16-18 ~ So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal. Amen
The real love of my life was Harold Shipman. We were cell mates in Wandsworth prison. We used to poke a finger of fudge up each others dirt boxes and then snuggle up and fed each other the fudge.
Those were the days!
RIP Harold my true love ❤️