Keep moving!Keep moving!

First of all, I am not what my given name: the label my primary childrear[end]ers aka: biological parents[1] stuck on me, means, even though much of my life I have had to put up with being treated that way: doormat.

Not exactly: "Bradford" means broad river crossing, i.e.: a passageway (convenience, amenity...) over the flow of the vicissitudes of life for people to tread on to keep their knickers or whatever clothes they are wearing from getting wet.Keep moving!

What a shame that they have to still get their shoes or feet wet. Mea culpa.

Keep moving!Keep moving!
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  1. My parents were, metaphorically, a rear end collision for me. Entirely literally they liked to subject me to anal enemas when I did not "produce" to their satisfaction.

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