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The Strategy to Choose the Best Credit Cards

Do you desperately want to get hold of the best credit card? When you opt for credit cards, you should be aware that every option has its set of benefits and rewards. This is why you need to make your choice wisely. We will just give you a guideline in this regard.

First, we…

How Cholesterol Can Affect Pregnancy

Cholesterol is often talked about as something that’s all bad. However, that’s not the case in all circumstances. You may be surprised to learn that your body needs this fatty, wax-like substance to develop and construct cells. Since cells are what helps keep your body growing and…

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At Boo's Christening I thought I looked sensational. Not kidding. I felt like the absolute danglers. Cream lace shift to the knee. No cleavage on show, but a little bit of leg. Nice and fitted, but not painted on. Clung in the right places, but appropriate. Classy. Tanned and a little bit French looking. In essence, fit. 

Sadly, after reviewing the photos of the day, turns out this was not the case. Rather than the sexy, Italian looking (I felt continental, ok?), chic vision of elegance I saw gazing back in the mirror, there, in the photographs, lurked my incredibly unwelcome alter ego, Thunder Thighs. Ten Tonne Tessa.

And unfortunately, I have not imagined it. It's there. In print. Photographic evidence. Can't argue with that.

(I know what you're thinking now, so no, you will not find a single picture of the ample quads of which I speak on this blog. Do you really think I'd be stupid enough to let you have a good gawp and poke and giggle at said rolls? I wasn't born yesterday, you scavengers of human misery.) 

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