Look at all these people strutting around like they own the place. That woman over there, dancing on her own. I can quite see why. She can’t move with grace. She can’t dress with grace. Clearly she’s on a diet of fat.
And look at that man in that corner. He has one thing on his mind. I can tell. He’s been smooching that woman for half an hour now. And before that he was smooching someone else.
Half those girls over there look like they’re wearing petticoats on top of a dress. It looks disgusting. I suppose it’s the fashion. I would imagine they’re the type of loose women who dye their hair fluorescent blue and have piercings and tattoos all over the place.
And see that man wearing jeans at a formal occasion. He can’t dance either. He looks like he’s got the shakes or something. As for the bride and groom. Really! She looks like they might use her as a sandbag in the event of a flood. I can see why the groom is casting his eye hither and thither around the room. Mind you, his father is not much better. I hear he’s a bit of a lecherous rake.
Oh! I wish someone would ask me for a dance. I have no idea why no one seems to like me.