Frankie Lassut

The Little Pink Well Being Bible (For Women Only) (eBook, ePUB)

• Format: ePub

Produktbeschreibung

Could someone who considers themselves to be rubbish at maths; have the students gain calculus PhDs?
Can a bank clerk business advisor teach someone how to successfully run a business?
Can a mother with low self esteem, and very limited knowledge about life (school, proper job, mortgage, marriage, kids, death ... repeat), and low awareness, have a hope of teaching her 'special children' (all children are special) the skills for a passionate, satisfactory, creative life?
If she was a special child to her mother, and now considers herself to be unworthy, and of low self esteem; maybe even 'no good' (except she can produce a beautiful, special child), what happened to the 'special bit'? ... isn't she going to teach her children to be, 'her'? How can she do anything else?
This offering is 'how to remember you're a special woman'.
All woman are special, they just don't realise it.
Women populate the earth. Men impregnate them, but, that isn't necessary; the Bible tells us that, twice at least (if you choose to believe that). So, men are there to lift heavy weights and move stuff. This handbook is therefore for women and their children. It consists of some useful wisdom, and some great reasons why you should all have massive, female, self-appreciation.
Men? If you've finished with the heavy weights, the footy is on; and the number for pizza delivery is by the phone, which is by the couch (the missus will answer the door when it arrives).

---

Dieser Download kann aus rechtlichen Gründen nur mit Rechnungsadresse in A, B, CY, CZ, D, DK, EW, E, FIN, F, GR, H, IRL, I, LT, L, LR, M, NL, PL, P, R, S, SLO, SK ausgeliefert werden.

Produktdetails

• Verlag: Frankie Lassut
• Erscheinungstermin: 14. Januar 2012
• Englisch
• ISBN-13: 9781908796288
• Artikelnr.: 48338399

Autorenporträt

I am the one being shaved; the other one Nim, is is a looney bin now!
I went to see a psychic years ago who ended up as my girlfriend; she didn't see that one coming! But she was extremely honoured. However it ended badly i.e. it rained heavily as I buried her body and I got soaked. No! You don't really want to hear about it, it's depressing; I was joking about the burial. She told me that I was to uncover a talent I had ... Well, another psychic told me that as the first one was dead; I was lying when I said I was lying. Nothing happened for quite a while. Suddenly I realised I needed a 'job' quite badly as I was beginning to drink halves. No, not a boob 'job'! I went for the cheap option i.e. the surgeon gave some socks to shove up my jumper when I go out. I got a 'job' (have you got boobs on your mind?) because someone told me that bus-driving was easy because you just sit on your butt and turn the wheel. She was about six, a wise woman ... that's called an oxymoron. Fantastic! I thought get the job and in a couple of days I'd be driving all the nice passengers around and about seeing all the sights for a fraction of the cost of a tour bus; and we'd have a roof in case it rained. Easy! First of all though there was the training; and I entered hell.

I was born in Cumbria in a little ex-iron ore mining town called Millom. It was only small, a one- horse town; the horse was called Peg. It had a pedigree name too, but I can't remember it at the moment: Peggy Suss? However, I got fed up and left as I was the only man in a town full of women and they were all lesbys; I've always been lucky. I went to Blackpool and attended the photographic college. I then moved to Coventry and met the psychic who would tell me what was going to happen. I could say now that the rest is history. Well it is, but obviously not history as that's all made up anyway. Then I got the job bus-driving, which as I said is easy 'you just sit on your butt and turn the wheel'. The bus station management weren't pleased that she had said that though, so she was tried and sent to Guantanamo Bay; they have a section for young kids who are bad to the bone.

The job was so mad that I thought it would be a good idea to write out some posters and stick them all on the wall of the bus station. The other drivers enjoyed them, but the management tore them down, the badstars (that's an anagram of astards +B). I carried on and ended up with a manuscript for a book, which, by ...