My dad – aka Big Papa Nige – found this bling monstrosity in an old box of Dan things
(I swear I had the taste of a fucking magpie)
Anyways; he found it, whipped a battery in and now is walking around a dinner plate on his wrist covered in diamantés
I used to care SO much what people thought.
What did it do for me?
I do my own thing.
Dance to my own beat.
Couldn’t give a tuppenny fuck what people think anymore and as a result?
Life is good.
Now be honest with yourself – how much of what you do is because of other people?
How much do you care about what people say about you?
Do you embrace your unique talents, quirks and down right wierd side?
If no? Why the fuck not?!
Life is so Bastard short why do you care so much about what other people think when they in all likelihood are too wrapped up in their own shit.
PS: my dad is a bling Bastard at 65 and he doesn’t give a toss
Be like my dad