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13.
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Fire tiger! I know, right? If I'm a tiger I'm a skinned one that's lying on the floor as a rug.
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Why nothing can go faster than light. I accept that this is so, but why? What is so special about light that it defines ultimate speed?

Is it just a coincidence that light is the same speed as the fastest that can be, or is it based purely on the limitations of human observation?
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Quite possibly Dolores Claiborne. She's sensible and resourceful and damn straight she got away with murdering that abusive arsehole of a husband she had.

I would so love King to collaborate with Steinman on a rock opera - it would be quite possibly the definition of awesome.
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Go on his gap year and build wells in Africa.
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I think the longest was Stephen King's It, and the shortest Garth Nix's The creature in the Case. I actually bought It because it was nearly as thick as it was wide, because all his books on that shelf were £7.99 and I'm going to get my money's worth if I possibly can. The creature in the Case was actually a free booklet to promote reading, given away as part of World Book Day. It's actually a short story, and in his short story collection Across The Wall.
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For fertility to be opt-in. Sure, you'd still get the Quiverfull nuts breeding like rabbits, but all the unintended, unwanted pregnancies? Gone in one fell swoop. No-one would be born without being wanted. Which would mean a hell of a lot of people not being born at all, to the benefit of the whole planet.
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Not every school labels their exercise books the same way. If you find that one keen new student has charged ahead and labelled theirs in a way other than the one you were dictating, because they're one of the few who has done this subject before and they think they know what they're doing, tell them they're wrong and that they'll have to start again. Do not scream at them, put them in detention, and hold them back after the lesson while you tell them what a useless wad of scum they are to the point that they cause themself permanent physical harm in a doomed attempt to not cry. Should you somehow reach this point anyway, the correct response to seeing that an 11 year old has torn the skin on their thumb open with their index fingernail by repeatedly scraping it over the course of 5 minutes is not to toss them a tissue and carry on.

And you wonder why I didn't do French GCSE or choose to spend my after school time learning Latin from you.
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Fire tiger.


I know, I was shocked too. I was expecting water rat or something... I can be a little fire tigery if someone's threatening my friends or family, but that's about it. Mostly I'm very doormatty.
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What the hell's a TSA?
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Being too silly, impatient and full of unfounded faith in myself to do my A-levels. I genuinely believed, at the age of 16, that I would get into Laine Theatre Arts, they would starve me down to a decent size 8, I would graduate at 18 and be a darling of the West End by 21.

Yeah. Well, we live and learn. I should have done what everyone told me to do - stay at school and get A-levels in English, Maths and Music, gone to a good university(my deputy head once told me I was Oxbridge material - good god, why did I ignore her???) and THEN, once I had a degree, pursued the stage, enrolling at a musical theatre college at 21.

I gained nothing anyone would respect by the path I took(one and a half BTECs and an HND), and only got into Stella Mann at 21 anyway. If I could go back to 17...
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Bush meat.
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1. Hold a referendum on EU membership
2. Get the fuck out of the EU
3. Scrap National Rail and all the private companies it fails to liaise with, reinstate British Rail as an entity in charge of the tracks, rolling stock, stations AND timetables(or, in other words, everything) so there is no breakdown of communications and rampant waste
4. put a limit on how many business consultants any state organisation can hire, and a capped fee that they can pay them
5. Having got the fuck out of the EU, start treating farmers sensibly - no more paying them to keep fields fallow, or paying them less than it costs them to produce for milk.
6. scrap tuition fees. It's one thing to no longer give a grant but expect the money back at some point, it's quite another to charge extra.
7. ban NHS funded IVF, and balance advertising for IVF with promotion of adoption.
7b. make sterilisation on the NHS easier to obtain, with iron clad paperwork to the effect that the patient, having chosen the surgery of their own free will, does not get to bitch and sue if in a few years they change their minds and want to breed. They will be pointed in the direction of the adoption services.
7c. fire any and all pharmacists who refuse to dispense contraception on moral or religious grounds. If you don't want to do your job, or want to use your job to manipulate and oppress, you don't get to keep your job.
8. make adoption easier. No banning people on the grounds of disability, marital status(unless dangerous) or ethnicity. The ultimate goal being to unstigmatise adoption, so it shouldn't matter if someone is not the same colour as their parents. Lift the age limit.
9. make parenting classes for the breeding compulsory.
10. take the arts funding away from the Olympics and give it back to the arts
11. mobilise Boris' fleet of new Routemasters
12. stop the campaign for England to host the 2018 World Cup. We can't afford it.


I'm sure I missed a lot there, but it's a good start.
Oh! Electoral reform!

13. make our democracy proportional. Count up each individual vote to decide the balance of parliament, but also count the majority of any given constituency to elect their MP. This will mess around with the numbers in the Houses a bit, but it also means that whoever wins the popular vote is put into power.

EDIT AGAIN:

14. Legalise all class B and C drugs, have them dispensed by chemists in a controlled environment. Tax them. They'll still be cheaper than those bought on the street, so drastically chopping down the illegal drug revenue that's funding the war lords of Afghanistan, and cut crime committed by addicts who can't afford their fix.
14b. Station security staff outside chemists.
15. Put all jobseekers to a minimum amount of work. Nothing degrading or difficult, but useful occupations that will benefit society, the like of which volunteers currently do. Cleaning away graffiti, manning public libraries, governmental data input and suchlike.
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Not a book, but a musical - "The Drowsy Chaperone". The title is the name of one of the supporting characters, who sings one song and spends most of the time falling over drunk. She's not really that important to the plot. And it's not a title that draws you in - it sounds rather dull. I would rename the show after her song, and call it "As We Stumble Along", which is far more dynamic(being an active journey rather than a passive name) and more like the 1920s musicals of which it is a pastiche.

Generally speaking, I'm terrible at giving things titles, and far too easily swayed by them. Unless I recognise the author as worth reading, I probably won't read a book with a dull title.
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Yup. I've driven Poor Jud(named posthumously, in life he was just The Escort), Gronk(onomatopoeic), borrowed Eva(gold Focus with a numberplate beginning NA51), Nero(black N-reg Polo), and now drive Kyra(royal blue Clio).
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That would be the French exchange trip I went on at the age of 13. I was useless at the language and didn't improve, the family I was staying with didn't have the means to really do anything so I spent as much time as I could asleep to make the time go faster, and my period started for the first time. The Reix-Moultilles did not have a lock on their bathroom or even a bolt, and I was terrified to bathe or shower in a house full of strangers with no guaranteed privacy and so didn't for two weeks. The week before I had been to camp, and had several months' supply of sanitary pads in my suitcase just in case. Having not needed them that week, my mother took them out of my luggage for me in time for France. They went through a lot of toilet paper in that house that week. I didn't tell anyone, of course, as explaining to someone who spoke English would have been humiliating enough without having a long, drawn-out misunderstood discussion about it in Franglais. They, of course, assumed I was a disgusting child with no personal hygeine or social skills, and pointedly said that they were never, ever going to do that sort of thing again.

That was pretty hellish.
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I live in England.
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Well, there's only been the one, and since his way of breaking up with me was to stop calling or texting me, and mutter that he was busy and hang up when I called him, and hope I got the message...

No.

Although he did set some of his friends on me afterwards to take me to task for 'hurting his feelings'. I'm still not sure how I did that, possibly I projected the wrong aura when I was sobbing myself to sleep from his blind-siding rejection... I think I really did love him.
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Possibly Sweden. They seem eminently sensible there - sex education from the start of school, mostly agnostic, healthy lifestyle. The only downsides that I'm aware of are the ridiculously high price of petrol(not so important when most people drive electric cars) and the length and depth of winter.
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I met Shane Richie once. He butted into my conversation, so I stared at him until he got embarrassed and went away, then carried on.
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