So after all that, she’s only unveiled a box. A cardboard box. This is the most drawn out launch. Ever. It’s like being on death row with the faint hope of appeal. Or faking orgasms to save your partner’s ego in the hope it gets better (we’ve all done it ladies
). Or continuing to drink in the hope of hair of the dog. Basically these are not good things that come to those who wait. Who is actually going to buy her
tit? Apart from the girl who self-professed she would buy actual
tit. But we can discount her. I think the men in white coats will be calling her soon.
And Ali, whilst I appreciate a heart-felt sentiment especially in these uncertain times hun, have you actually lost your mind? No, really? There’s more than enough white coats to go around. The progress that no one else has seen? Lydia documents her entire bungalow life. Everything. We know every regurgitated beige meal, every calendar date she’s suffering from PMT and every time something minor has inconvenienced her. We’d even have the lowdown on the size of your manhood, well if she actually saw it that is. Pipe down old boy, that pampas grass you’ve tenderly photographed has shown more growth and progress.