“Red, you will go on my first whistle. Blue, you will go on my second whistle. 3, 2, 1.”
Ah, the joys of Gladiators. But enough of lycra-clad steroids houses, because it turns out quite a few ralliers are ready. Which is AMAZING. I think there are 15 cars that have committed.
That’s a minimum of £15 000 raised at a grand per car, and by the way I’ll be very disappointed if you guys all raise £250 on the nose. As my boss says, targets are signposts not destinations. On top of that I’m aiming to raise at least £3000 myself.
All I can say is a proud, humble and honoured ”Keep it up people. Keep it up.”
“Shadow. you will get kicked out for drugs. Warrior. you should get kicked out for hairspray.“
By that I mean – someone has accepted the invitation to rally. Step up Miss Abi Davison-Jenkins.
Now, Abi’s not the first – props to all you early supporters – but the great thing is that I don’t know Abi. That might need rephrasing. The great thing is I don’t know Abi, so it won’t just be me, my sisters and a few friends coming. There’ll be, like, strangers.
Hooray, the more people, the more money. Take that in the ass Cancer.
And if you thought I was going to write that, at last, I have been accepted by you, well you can fuck off! I don’t need you. I don’t need your acceptance. You don’t know me. You don’t none of you know me. *To be said in Southern fried Jerry Springer guest-style, as I come on in the Dads that Dumped Their Daughters : Can love be a crime? part of the show*.
“You think you know me? You? Think you? Know me?”
