Get a life, they say. Well, I had one! It was fun and fabulous, with the occasional walk on the wild side to ensure I didn’t become too much of a goody-two-shoes, overly-shaven wannabe. As Mum used to say; if it’s got tyres or testicles, it’s going to cause trouble!
Mum was last seen dancing to some freaked-out flower power Bex-induced tune with Uncle Paul, John, George, and Rinnie. We just called all of them Dad, but common folk called them the Beatles. Basically, my life was already messed up. My personal motto was What The Fuck? And then like a thunderbolt, courtesy of my dearest friend, Phil Mecrackin, a gorgeous man dressed in a glitter catsuit with a bent smile and a wicked sense of humour, Defamations came into my life. Defamations became my personal condom; it gave me all the protection when things got hard.
It also gave me a Heart of Darkness. I Shit you Not. And that was the only the start! Before long, my extended friends and family were telling me “You’re Not a Morning Person” and to Lighten the Fuck Up. For Fuck’s Sake, I felt so dirty, I needed to soap myself clean like a Filthy Scrubber. Talk About Sweaty Flaps! Damn, it feels like I Put Vodka In My Coffee Again. What a mug!
The moral of the story is that Defamations are naughty, but not bad. Nope, nope, double nope! Defamations are positively sarcastic and rude cards, naughty gifts, books, soaps and other stuff that will help you forget the shit you just stepped in and provide you with a password journal to a truly fucking epic life.
Like dear old Mum said; just be you, and if people don’t like it, well… fuck them.