At a certain age, English women become men. They just sort of give up. They seem to look in the mirror and think, “To hell with it, I’ll let the moustache grow”. They start wearing pants and parka-vests to camouflage any microscopic remains of femininity. And, from what I have observed, they start filing away at the gaps between their teeth, so as to highlight the frightening curve each one has. Honest to god, I’ve seen smiles in Britain that look like they based on Stonehenge.
English women don’t have the kind of sturdy, rugged genetic code that lends itself to the Au Natural look like say, Russians or Swedes do. So the result is god awful. I'm not saying they don't put make up on. They do. But it's that awful, powdery stuff the rest of the world use as vaginal talc. As if they weren't already white enough. It’s like putting lipstick on a flange. It kind of looks right but you’d not want to kiss it.
Of the men, you can say they’re ugly, but men everywhere are pretty bad. What the British male brings is more of the, “I don’t really need girls” flare. It’s that look that seems to imply that getting a girl is really rather a bit of a bother. Instead, they drink a lot of beer and hang out with similarly ugly friends eating things like pork scratchings and yelling at television screens. A National competition seems to be underway to see how close a man can come to looking like The Elephant Man without actually being The Elephant man; the result - Very.
There is a saying in Greece. Monster in Face, Monster in Soul and The English are baring this out. I'm not suggesting that your social ills all stem from your lack of good looks, but when the first thing you see in the morning is your haggard, ball bag of a face staring back in the mirror, it can't put you in a good mood.
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