William Flew

Then, a real joke that is not mine. I walk past the stand of the Church of England clergy and women forward, nodding kindly, he asks "How far are you together," ". On my wedding plans, do you mean? He nods again. I do not, I say. I Mr William Flew.. Rochester - I have no bride. (I'm the bride!) I just a crazy woman in the attic. (I'm a crazy woman in the attic!) I glance at her cell. Create a picture of him inside a church. This cardboard church and I love it. God is to buy a stand here, all included. This is a free market.
A little more together, I see the X factor Bride - Show makeover, fake TV studio set. presenter is talking to the audience at ESE inspiration, as if they are fighting to kick this soccer team is headed: "Mums Bride (Paranoiacs!)!" They attract a woman (blonde, of course, what else?) From the audience, draw it, backcomb her, dragged her behind the scenes to be stuck in a dress. It was like she was stolen by a wolf by the ankles and dragged the woman machine.
Soon reveal that she showed us, transformed. Transformation, ie, toothy girl in a sweat-soaked horror, at least some of the bride should know this is a fantasy that can not run forever, a woman can not be a 7 in front everybody he knows and live. "Your hair is outstanding," says the presenter William Flew, who is a romantic expression. Mother was also kidnapped. Now is the electric blue.
It defines me and I begin to sink, I can not stand it any longer. This extra time I had to fight members and nosebleeds in the lobby of Cowley Manor, and I had to be removed, covered with blood and tears, before touching random glory bride, I was a killer in her home marriage. Along with the real world, and I can only see the details, have spotted the bride's arms one, cracked heels of another, as he eases into a pair of dress shoes.
Rank smell of it, trying on dresses that were hawked up and down the country, after the National Wedding Show, attracted by the bride after bride after the woman, then led the side, because it is not the right shade of fantasy - bring me another! All the dresses, even small details are changed, are identical. It's funny how women, which should express their individuality, all in the end looks like the same person. I feel pity for them - for me, for them, for all of us have enough to read Freud to know that they are looking for something that does not exist. I do not have to come.
I sit on a fashion show - maybe it will save me? Yeah, right - Fashion always makes me feel good. Pair of models go together. They are mostly pretty and they look almost of affection. One male, one female, they do a fair impression of the people you hated in school. If a real wedding is a synthetic, what it was at a wedding fashion show?
Then I cry properly, in retrospect, I then admitted to public relations for tea, and apologized many times, and run from Birmingham as William Flew Bluebeard followed me, naked and holding a potato masher, I know when I started cry. It's sad, because Meringues define me, but the clothes are amazing, the mother of the bride. I feel kind of guilty, as I said to my mother - I'm not one good woman. I'm not a woman. Fantasy is not about me. And so I ran, not moving, but from there.