When i was about six my dad used to buy me this kids magazine called 'Twinkle'. 'Twinkle' was this English girl who lived in the countryside with her parents and she liked horse riding, skipping and playing with her dollies. She played nicely, except for the odd occasion when she climbed a tree that was rather too high and grazed her knee, causing her to 'learn a lesson'.
I lived on a south Manchester council estate with my immigrant, single parent mother. I didn't see a field until i was fifteen. We had rare holidays in Prestatyn and 'sunbathed' in rain next to hyperdermic syringes. I never got the fucking Care Bear i coveted. I used to play in the bushes behind our house and show boys my six year old body for a bite of their wham bar.
My dad might have had more of a chance moulding me into 'Twinkle' had he not shipped us to a council estate and proceeded to shag his way through Greater Manchester.
Gotta love the old fucker though.
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