Finally I comprehend the sheer need for the "daddy's Benz driving, flashy cell toting, 'lets go to zouk' every day boyfriend". (I know... how thick of me to not have gotten it before), but in my defence, I hadn't seen them before.
Their absolute, ravishing leather soles and the feeling of corporeal bliss when I slip my fish feet in their spongy depths. Then I saw the 3000 rs price tag... shit fuck, fuckity shit shit fuck shit! Life is 'just' not fair, im a somewhat much odd, by all grandparent standards 'good girl', who cant afford to dish out 3000rs for a Clarks' pair of loafers.
THIS IS WHY you have boyfriends!!! My mother is finally making sense. The world is officially coming to an end, save yourselves, those of you who can.
Meanwhile I shall spend my last moments standing miserably infront of a window, gazing longingly at my unrequited, twin passion.