Goodness, real goodness, has it's own sort of cruelty to it.
Estate agents. You can't live with them, you can't live with them. The first sign of these nasty purulent sores appeared round about 1894. With their jangling keys, nasty suits, revolting beards, moustaches and tinted spectacles, estate agents roam the land causing perturbation and despair. If you try and kill them, you're put in prison: if you try and talk to them, you vomit. There's only one thing worse than an estate agent but at least that can be safely lanced, drained and surgically dressed. Estate agents. Love them or loathe them, you'd be mad not to loathe them.
I'm very happy with the way I look. I wake up some morning, catch myself in the bathroom mirror, and go, 'hey girl, you're alright'. But on the other hand, I find the website stuff, and the polls, something completely removed from my own personal life. You can't take anything like that too seriously, otherwise you'd end up in the loony bin.