Reading these suicide pages you will find people seeking help and people offering their help. Some witness about suicide from real life experience, others who play along with me would pretend it's a children's game. Some make sick and cruel jokes about it, and angry people blame me for even mentioning the subject. You might also want to read my favourite answers. If you want your answer to be included here, fill in the form.

Date Name/email

What is the best way to kill yourself when you're under 13?

Quelle est la meilleure forme de suicide pour les moins de 13 ans?
15 May 2003 Lucy Cortina It was like in that film. Four weddings and a funeral. Except it was four parties, and my boobie-funeral. The parties were all crap.
But yeh, I decided against a cremation of my boobies. If ghosts do exist, then I'm sure that boobie-ghosts also exist. So I need to retain my boobies - even if they are in a wooden box surrounded by mud and worms - so that my boobie-ghosts may return to their pert, proud, and enormous former selves.
As I was in the big room where they allow you personal time with your departed loved ones, I looked down at the beautiful boobies, and cried. They had been arranged so as to look beautiful and "at peace" by the undertaker. They were even surrounded by little daisy chain necklaces. Now ain't that sweet!
I once heard a rumour that dead people fart. The gas builds up, and then suddenly releases!
As my boobsie-woosie's had learned how to fart just before they so tragically died, they both gave off their last (and loud!) burst of gas. Then it was almost like I could see them, rising up... up to Heaven. Or maybe that was just the cloud of fart-gas, who knows.
My boobies were gone. For eternity. Never to be seen again.
Here's a lesson for you people – suicide is so NOT worth it. My breasts were so selfish, and have left Lucy Cortina a broken girl. I may end up like Mariah Carey, thinking that people are plotting against me, and leaving crazy messages on Eminem's answer-machine.
That would be a shame, eh?

Anyway I buried my collection of shopping bags, leather bras and co. with the boobies, so at least they won't have to float around Heaven all naked and exposed, like the angels do, or Adam & Eve... or even Adam & Steve.


Now, won't ya all say a little prayer for me...?
15 May 2003 just a girl Mouchette! i am shocked! what on earth is a girl like me doing in your 'favourites' list?? oh do tell.. after all i am.. Just a girl :P
(and where has that lucy cortina gal got to? i'm missing those stories i live for.. o dear...)
14 May 2003 just a girl "my first smile"
oh could it be? really.. could it be? oh god tell me (not that there is one, sorry to disappoint you!).. could it be possible that i committed such a surreal and absurd act of this demeaning and nauseating vile world that i currently live in (that includes the schizophrenic world i've now created in my head as well).. how is it possible that anything was able to bring about such a miracle but such a sham at the same time.. which merely imitated but a former illusion of myself.. which is so far from reality.. so far from the truth.. and now so far from myself.. that presently exits..

i smiled today :)

And i'll tell u a little secret my humble and gracious fellow readers: I almost fainted!!! no joke.. the tremendous yet synthetic courageous act (or should i say.. crime?) which i committed just moments ago almost knocked me off my feet!! which perhaps might have been a little funny to any viewer near by.. watching my school skirt fly 100 miles over my head.. which would in turn bring about the scrutiny of my sexy black lace underwear, i'm sure (god knows why i still bother to wear sexy underwear.. oh, wait there is no god!) which might actually make someone else smile :)
But oh no.... must i go to jail now??? will some strapping young man in a uniform come use handcuffs on me? hehe memories.. but aww :(
"I dun wana go to da jail Mr.. pwese pwese dun make me!" (no lucy cortina stories in jail!) "it was only one wittle smile!"
Anyway by now i'm guessin you're all wondering what on earth made me commit this horrendous crime in the first place.. well i came here to share it with you all.. perhaps create another to commit the same crime.. enjoy :)
13 May 2003 PC me I wana use this website for a dedication to my lovely boyfriend Derek. Like they do on radio when they play a song and dedicate it to some old biddy that is half deaf anyway.

This one is for you, my sweet Derek. From your Phil. I love you today and always.
- - - oh yeh u mite also b able to tell from this that im gay. im a fag. wow! how shocking! its like Lucy Cortina WITHOUT breasts but WITH a bra!
11 May 2003 just a girl "Thank god for television!" is my quote for today.. as i woke to the inevitable and unbearable phenomenon of being, well, me... just a girl..
But of course waking at 3am in the morning does arise a certain feeling and/or thought, in this profound, yet slightly insane head of mine.. what to do? what on earth can i do with myself at an hour like this.. what pessimistic activity must i encounter in order for me to stay alive, for yet another day.. another obnoxious day in which i must find pointless deeds to be done to prevent me from wondering into my kitchen to find that handsomely large glistening knife.. which sits peacefully and patiently in mummy's drawer... waiting for me.
But at 3am?? what activity is present for a 16-year-old lonely, depressed, anorexic and suicidal girl such as myself to take part in.. no computer in site.. no kittens playing with bubble wrap.. no chocie biscutes to digest in the emaciated tummy which lies before me.. no lucy cortina stories to read!.. no noise.. no sound.. only the constant humming of the diluted thoughts running through my head..(oh my!) what to? do what to do?... and suddenly.. as my hand scrambled through my sheets to find an exit, (intending to head to that kitchen draw of mummy's) i came across a long, black mechanism... yes it was.. my tv remote.. "peep".. and to my delight a sudden glow entered my room.. "but wait! there's more..."
And as the sun came up this gloomey sunday morning (mother's day.. o yippee yay..) i had made it through another night watching danoz direct adds talk about the one and only.. 'abb-doer' (is there a boobie-doer too?) as the morning hours passed me by..
"Thank god for television!"
11 May 2003 Lucy Cortina Dear just a girl:

This site is wondefrul eh? Like a boobie love parlour. If you want to say anything, I am here :) Any naughty confessions u would like to make to auntie Cortina?
10 May 2003 Lucy Cortina Normally just before 6pm in the evening, my mum says to me:
"Lucy, I'm going to have a bath at six!" so that if I need the loo I could quickly go, before she used the bathroom to sit in her own filth - surrounded by bubbles - for 10 hours.
So it came as a shock yesterday when she said:
"Lucy, I'm going in the shed at six!"
Millions of horrific thoughts raced through my innocent brain at that precise moment. Thoughts like:
"Has she become a Victorian and now takes baths in a cast iron tub with carbolic soap, using the shed to spare her blushes?"
It will be more than my thick skin can stand if we have to start wearing lacy blouses and wearing skirts as long as the Eiffel tower. And have to sit in front of a coal fire sipping mint infused tea, saying "we are not amused" when a newsreader wearing makeup (i.e. - all of them) appears on the TV screen (which incidentally would be black and white, so god knows how we could tell makeup from the fuzz).
She was, infact, going to pot some new plants for her flowerbeds. I have explained to her before that gardening is a hobby for people who get to that stage in life where they.. well... no longer have a life.
My granddad once told me that, as a child, my mum used to sneak off into the shed with her mates for a quick cigarette, and he would see clouds of smoke emitting from the shed. As I know what a naughty woman my mum is, I went outside at 6pm to investigate my suspicions.
Sure enough, clouds of smoke were emitting from the shed! As I got closer, I could smell burning strawberry.
"Oh nooooo! Mum may have finally flipped and is murdering Dad's entire home-grown fruit and veg collection!" I thought.
Mum was annoyed last week because Dad seemed to be spending so much time playing Madonna records to his cabbages and sprouts in the garden, to try and get them to grow and reproduce (or whatever it is that cabbages and sprouts do, apart from make you fart). He had been playing Madonna's "Get Into The Groove" (what a perverted title for a song!) when Mum snapped, and ripped dad's favourite cabbage from the soil. She then proceeded to boil the cabbage in a pan - the screams of the poor cabby could be heard for miles around.
Anyway, back to the present - I feared opening the door to the shed, as I may have discovered my Mum gleefully covered in strawberry flesh, armed with a potato peeler.
Eventually I opened the door... to discover Mum sat in the corner, looking all dopey. She had what looked like a cigarette in her hand. But sticking out form the nub of the cig was... wait for it... a strawberry! It was all black and bubbly.
"Do youshhh wantsshh shuuuum?" 'asked' my mum.
Why, oh why, did I not commit suicide sooner? I ran back to the house screaming, and took out mum's vitamin C tablets, and shoved a load into my mouth.
Which is when I remembered the "cod-liver-oil-tablet-overdose" escapade. Noooo! I was going to end up like an orange! As if I don't already have enough orange-peel skin on my thighs...
10 May 2003 just a girl well mouchette.. i am very thankful for ur website.. although i must suggest, u should really change the name... UNDER 13? mmmm at least let the little kiddies have a childhood before we open them up to our hatred of life and love for suicide answers... perhaps change to... for teenagers? as most of ur readers are teenagers, not many under 13.. thank god.. but still i must thank you for ur website.. it has helped me in my dark times.. instead of crying in my room with my music so loud i didn't have to hear the rest of the world, wallowed in my self pity, i come here and read fabulous lucy cortina's wild stories.. so thank you lucy... by the way who are you? how old are you? and how have u managed to stay alive for this long? ... mouchette's website i'm guessing? and your boobies? who knows.. but still write back to me if u feel like a chat... im 16 yr old girl.. and just wanted to join in on ur fun.. oh and who is mouchette? byebye for now...
06 May 2003 Lucy Cortina Note to Christina Aguilera, Britney Spears et all: Don't bother with the all year tannning crap.
Do what I did, overdose on Vitamin C tablets.
I am ready to take the entertainment world by storm.. once these breasts grow back.
01 May 2003 Lucy Cortina This just ain't funny anymore. Whoever offended God in my name must step forward now. Why does he hate me so much??
Surely he can't be jealous of my ability to grow such strong, healthy boobies? I mean, they were even bigger than Buddha's, and God planned to spike Buddha's jam doughnuts with Bust-reductO juice in the end.
I long to see the day when Britney Spears is aged 50 and still dancing around in bed-sheets and skirts that barely cover her ass. Well, she covers her face with makeup anyway, so we never get to see the real ass. Anyway, she's dancing at age 50, when suddenly her breasts explode live on stage, because God hates her – because on her 49th birthday she finally gave in and shed her virginity, by reading a Jackie Collins novel.
Back to the point – the latest horreur in my 'life' ('existence' might be a more suitable word), was waking up from a dream, where I was being chased by an enormous ass. For once, I wasn't being chased by Britney Spears. Or even J-Lo for that matter *snigger* (that reminds me – J-Lo attempted to poach Kylie Minogue's ass-makeup-stylist this week, as reported in recent news. Afraid to say it J-Lo, but the only makeup you will get on that ass will be a certain type from your Dear Ben).
Anyway – I went to the bathroom to cleanse and tone. As the warm water from the iron tap cascaded into the sink, I looked down.
And let out a scream.
There was poo in the sink! There WAS!! I'm not joking. So I ran screaming down the stairs and around the house, like a Marathon runner, and did about 10 laps of the whole place. Once the horreur had been released from my young and sensitive brain – which, incidentally, is like a sponge, and soaks up tragedy like this in an instant – I crept back into the bathroom. The sight was still the same, except I had left the tap running and now water was gushing over the rim of the sink. And the water was not alone. Poo was floating on top of it... and getting closer to me by the second! So I once again ran screaming down the stairs. But the poo was following me! Like a stalker!
The water was starting to rise to the level where my smoothly-shaved legs were. I ran faster. The poo floated faster. Then suddenly... I tripped over one of my sisters Barbie dolls.
Head first onto the water-filled floor.
The poo floated closer... and closer... and closer....
I couldn't get back up! Help! HELP me!
It floated closer.. and closer...
And I woke up.

I had fallen asleep in the back yard in my sisters paddling pool, which may explain the watery dream. As soon as the thought occurred to me... it became reality. My sister was there too – and she was not alone.
It's a shame Mum doesn't affix a shopping bag around her legs instead of using cheapo nappies from Kwik Save.
How could anything else contain such an enormous, and smelly bulge?
30 Apr 2003 Felicia - Your advising Angel Dear Ender Wiggen,
That’s no problem. I’m glad you had the chance to stop by. I guess you read a few of my posts and realized that I gave more than my fair share of advice. If not, then you probably read through some funnier material in the favorites section of the “Mouchette” boards involving Lucy Cortina and Billy the Freak. But for you to come here for some suggestions, I am going to lend a pair of open eyes… seriously.

When you feel pent up it is always best to talk to a stranger. Especially the ones who have experienced your situation.

It’s ironic at times. It seems that psychiatric help is just going to meeting sessions and pouring out your heart. Then you pay the listeners for listening to you and they give you medication for it. One or two hour sessions are not enough to eliminate your pain. Now I am not saying that psychiatric help is hopeless, I do agree that it is alright to have therapy, but you need to be picky by going to a trusted professional with great credentials. The same goes for looking for a great mechanic. Chose your helpers wisely and remember not to always give handouts to those who hunger for your loose change…sad to say, it’s not always the homeless that ask for handouts or “value meals”.

Don’t down yourself out in being a “geek”. I think geeks are “cool”. Many beautiful men and women like the sophisticated smart types. Sci-Fi games and science looked down by "normal" or "cool people"? I know of a drug dealer who loves to watch Star Trek, Star Wars, and Quantum Leap. He also plays Dungeons and Dragons for all hours of the night, and is still a bit of a shady character. His friends consider him cool and normal. As for me, I think he is a narcissistic sociopath with a cool smart guy appearance? I once dated him and he broke up with me because I was like a sheep to him. He changed his name to Scott. (Apologies to Scott Bakula) I have a nickname for him.... Scott Evil.

My suggestion though. Don’t get evil. It’s the silent, smart types that worry me.

And the people that scoff at you for being a typecast “geek”. Tell them they have issues that they should tend to themselves and to M.T.O.B. Some people never take the time to gather their thoughts and throw judgment to others and themselves way too quickly.

Drugs, even prescribed, can sometimes be hazardous to our system, even if it starts to makeone feel good. The main cure for all these disorders is exercise, eating well, and running with the dog on the beach (Well, that’s only if you have a dog.). If you are sitting in front of a computer terminal too long, blood starts to coagulate; you lose brain function through blood loss and have a tendency to get really depressed.
The blood and your engine need to get moving. Endorphins, nature's natural drug can do wonders every time. I swim in the pool every morning and run. My therapist gives back rubs and great tips on health. Okay, so it sounds expensive, but you can run for free and it doesn’t cost a dime, except for the expensive pair of Nike Running shoes and sore muscles. Honestly, they are cheaper than prescriptions.

Stay away from the placebos and use them as decoration in the office cube. If a fellow office workercomes about and is curious about them, have them take a few, and tell them to come back for more if there are no results.

Don’t consider that your friends that never contact you are unkind. Friends are really hard to find nowadays. Hmmm…Sounds like a Karen Carpenter song. Well if your friends never returned your calls just consider it their loss and concentrate on you.Perhaps they have issues to deal with and are too involved with other new things in their lives. Make new friends because you cannot have too many friends in this world.

It’s only natural that it takes time to get to know people. That proves that you are not fake. Getting to know people is very wise in the health department and money smart. Just a note, if you first meet someone, such as a blind date, and they try to borrow money from you right away from them… flee… flee... far away.

I worked for a large company too and got laid off. Don’t blame it on yourself that the economy is bad.
The economy is bad, period. I decided to go for freelance writing and getting published and doing part time work here and there. The only way you can make it big is buying stock (which I don’t think is wise right now) or thinking up an invention or a song lyric that comes to your mind. Look at some of the groups nowadays. They write musical lyrics with depressing words in it, and later, it becomes a big hit. Don’t ever think that you are not musically inclined. At 34 going on 14, I am thinking about taking piano lessons.

My friend you are not alone in this world of woes. It seems that suffering is an ongoing process which never stops. I for one can understand that even if you are succeeding, something always steps in the way. Just now I got a rejection note from a part time job in the mail. And a rejection note from a publishing company, and more rejections. I can write forever about my failures and rejections.

1.) I got rejected from Macy’s because I was too over qualified.
2.) A 30-year-old drug dealer rejected me.
3.) I once lived with a bitchy roommate and had to spend time taking care of a feisty, geriatric mother. Now I don’t live with the bitchy roommate.
4.) My car registration needs a change of address.
5.) I need an oil change.
6.) I feel bummed that I gained back ten pounds.
7.) My Micrel stock is plummeting.
8.) I’m a starving artist.
9.) Applied 100 times, replies 0.
10.) I telemarketed for a garbage company and recently got canned.
11.) I am not in love with the guy I am with and love somebody else.

If you feel that you are at the end of your rope. Try this method. Don’t over analyze your life. Never conform to the standards of this world. Just be you. Take the time to walk and gulp in a breath of fresh air. Look at the stars at night and remember that billions upon billions of these stars are both over our heads, and the shooting ones are the ones you make wishes upon. If you are way too analytic and not into this mushy stuff. Write a journal of your thoughts and begin with “I have every right to be here as much as anybody else and there is so much to life that I didn’t experience and never go to do". Think of that one thing that means something to you and do it, despite the boundaries. Suicide is not the suggestion though but living life is.

Never be sorry about your lengthy post. It is okay to fear the unknown and be reassured that loneliness can be broken if you start opening up to theirs.

Things to do if you want to begin (These are just suggestions):
1.) Take up piano lessons.
2.) Fold Origami
3.) Take up surfing (Don’t drown)
4.) Skydiving (Have a good parachute)
5.) Learn to cook
6.) Clean the house
7.) Read up on a good science fiction book
8.) Think up an invention
9.) Help an unfortunate one
10.) Adopt a pet
11.) Learn to fix cars
12.) Update your hard drive
13.) Set up a goal list.
14.) Draw
15.) Paint
16.) Take a nap
17.) Glass blowing
18.) Surfing
19.) Setting up an e-bay account
20.) Listening to positive music
21.) Good Spiritual cleansing
22.) Meditation
23.) Running
24.) Biking
25.) Swimming (Don’t drown…please!)
26.) Sun bathing
27.) Fishing
28.) Take classes
29.) Call your parent
30.) Eat at your favorite restaurant
31.) Go to Tower Records
32.) Build a Model rocket kit
33.) Buy a telescope
34.) Burn cds
35.) Throw away your weight scale
36.) Join a marathon
37.) Go on dates , be a mentor, and the list goes on.

I hope this advice helps you along the way. Good luck and think positive. I remember that you are trully are not alone in this world.
29 Apr 2003 Lucy Cortina Felicia baby, do not fear. In my darkest moments I was thinking "I don't need to do this...", when an angelic light appeared. Do you know what the light was shining on? It was shining directly upon the packet of chocolate and caramel biscuits on the table next to my bed. I reached up with my frailest of hands, I barely had the energy to lift the biscuit to my decaying mouth. As I was doing so, my sister ran into my room screaming "booby booby booby booby booby.... Mummy had a poo". I had no clue as to what planet she was currently visiting. Anyway, as she was so kind, she decided we would have a party with the chocolate and caramel biscuits. She didn't realise it at the time, but she was stopping my suicidal thoughts. She brought in party poperers, and most importantly - balloons. These are what saved my life. I was able to pump them up and pop them under my t-shirt, so it looked like I had a cleavage again. Until one of them popped, and I ran to the kitchen to overdose on my mum's cod liver oil capsules. I may end up looking like a cod. Good grief, I didn't think of that at the time! I don't want a "trout pout" like those other celebs. And I don't wanna end up looking like a fish!

Oh well... I guess if I do, some loony with a rod will pluck me out of this crazy sea of life, and cover me with batter and oil. And I will end up on a plate next to mushy peas in some Fish and Chip rstaurant in the backstreets London. Then to earn money I will become a fish-prostitute. Ok, my mind is racing too far ahead now! Time for my Prozac...
29 Apr 2003 Chris LUCY CORTINA- I know you're always fussing about your enormous breasts. So here it is, I've found you a job where you can use your breasts at maximum capacity. Why don't you become a (drum roll please)... prostitute! Men (including me) love large breasts and in case you are thinking that yours are too enormous to handle I have found you a solution also. Recently in a newspaper dated Tuesday, April 8, 2003 I read this article, which if you are interested you can use. Here it goes..

Hanky Panky sex school

The former madam of a Dutch escort agency has opened a Hanky Panky school for prostitutes to teach the world's oldest profession how to make more money.
Elene Vis-whose frank autobiography "Escort Queen with Turbopower" made her a Dutch tabloid darling-opened the school last week in a luxury Amsterdam canal house to offer prostitutes exclusive sales training to boost their business.

Come on Lucy. Apart from the standard "up the ass treatment", "through the cunt treatment" and the "blowjob treatment" you can offer "wobbly breast suck treatment" or "hide and seek, try to find your hidden dick between my breasts treatment", and other Lucy specialities. If you are thinking about the SSSS missions don't worry. You couldn't do better than become a prostitute. When men are having sex with beautiful girls with large breasts, you'll be surprised how easy you can suck out information out of them. They are high, they don't know what they are doing or saying and they will tell you anything you want to know. Come on Lucy, you know it makes sense, you will make more money, your breasts will find peace because they will realise that they are useful, it helps the SSSS and the prostitute school bill is on the SSSS.

See ya in a brothel!
27 Apr 2003 Lucy Cortina Can you believe it? I'm still alive! A bit of emergency surgery helped me to come to terms with the loss of my warm friends, my breasts. That and a few whiskies. The boobie-cremation is next Tuesday. I am still in the mourning period, I'm not even eating (well, I did have a few packets of chocolate cookies, to keep blood sugar levels high). I have never been a fan of surgery etc.
But then I think of Tony Blair's hideous wife - her hideous letterbox shaped mouth! I mean, she's supposed to be the Prime Minister's wife, if she really loved her husband she would get some botox done. Or at least some collagen injected into those lips. Maybe she can be Tony's secret weapon against Sadham Insane. He could send her over to Iraq on Mission Kissing. She can pout and threaten to kiss every Iraqui soldier. Yuk yuk!! Why do these thoughts get into my head? Why can't I control this brain of mine?!
If I could open up my brain and let you all in for boat cruises, I would. But then you would never get out...

Suicide is still option number 3. I will tell you options 1 and 2 another day.
25 Apr 2003 Lucy Cortina That's IT! Today my new silky bra snapped - it was like Hangman, like those people who hang themselves and their faces turn all pale, like plucked and tanned chicken flesh. But it was my breasts that were hanged, they weigh so much as it is - I estimate each breast at least to weigh 90 KG. And I suspect one is heavier than the other, possibly by an extra 12 Kilograms.
Anyway, my breasts were dangling down after they lost the support of the bra. So you could call it Hangtit, or Hangbust, or even Hangwoman - it could be the new game. Anyway.
My breasts were aphyxiated (however you spell it - I never went to 'grammar' school, hehe). So without those blooming beauties, my career, and my heart, is dead.
My time to commit suicide has come. Or breasticide. No, sorry, that's already happened and is the reason I'm committing suicide, duh! =( has managed to maitain my "lust" (*ooh!*) for life for, well, about 2 years now, since my 16th birthday, in 2001.
Be proud. Be proud of yourselves.

For putting up with my self-obsessed, and sexually, breastually active personality for so long.

See you all in Heaven.

Cos I spent this life in Hell.
19 Apr 2003 Lucy Cortina Life as a teenage SSSS spy agent is sure tough work. Maintaining ones breasts in itself is a big (boob) job. As I was getting ready for my latest mission, my tiny tot sister ran into my room laughing "Lalalalala I'm a Minogue!!" She had been listening to Kylie, of course.
She then begged me to take her "out dancing". I said no, I'm busy. She then said she wanted to come on my mission with me. Just as I was lifting my heavy-weight new rubber strengthened bra, she yanked it from my hands, the little mite, and ran off with it. So I pursued, my boobs shaking and wobbling side to side all through the house. I expect the neighbours got a nice surprise seeing my bosoms bobbling about like that. They probably think my parents run a part-time nudist camp as well as Breast HQ. My sister ran into the bathroom, and held the bra dangerously over the toilet pan.
"Me come", she said. I had no time to negotiate so.... I lied.
"Look sissy, Mr Piggles is going for a fly in the garden!"
"Where? Me see, me see!!!" she screamed. She dropped the bra, which thankfully landed with a sharp thud on the bathroom floor.
I grabbed it and ran off to my room, where thankfully my Danny had parked the new SSSS Cortina Mobile a few minutes earlier.
My sister thinks Mr Piggles is our neighbour. Sadly, the only truth to that is our neighbours hidous facial features.
Do expect my sister to enter this website by the age of 13. I don't think it will even take that long before she wants to discuss suicide. Just look at what hell members of the Cortina family are put through...
17 Apr 2003 Lucy Cortina Yeah I have been offered this website. Appealing to my greed of this site is something Mouchette knows will work :)
Alas, I am too busy with mundane activities like living and powdering my breasts to bother running a site like this. And my SSSS missions do take up a lot of time, it is by no means easy tracking down Britney's breasts. I know I know, they ARE big, but at the time my fat neighbour had stood up and his huge ass had covered the moon.
Just wait. I'll save Britney's career. yes, we have produced the world's first voice implants! Britney is going to be able to sing pretty soon, so grab those earmuffs....
13 Apr 2003 Lucy Cortina Billy, I like the style of your quotation marks better than mine. Where did you get them? Why can't I have any?
it's ok for you, you can just have a little implant to give yourself tits if you wanted to. No one cares for girls wanting quotation marks. Hmmphh!

Oh, my latest mission, by the way, is to investigate the theft of Britney Spears' breast implants (god forbid!), and the theft of Kylie Minogue's underwear collection. There was also mention of an attempted raid on Christina Aguilera's mansion. I think someone wsas trying to steal her makeup collection. She wears so much of it that it is worth billions, as she only buys in bulk.
I will inform you all of the results. Well, I suspect the results would be that Christina would never leave the house again. Britney would use a ballon pump to fill her fakie-less tits with air, and Kylie would just wear no underwear. Which some people might like...
12 Apr 2003 Lucy Cortina Why do people want to contact me???
You can't stop me now, I'm going to have a breast reduction!
Oh god, a man in a red suit is staring at me.
"Step away from the operating table..." he says.
Is it too late? Tune in next week to find out! What happens to Lucy's breasts?
12 Apr 2003 Raija Lucy Cortina, please email me.I am Danny Keaton's mum. I need to talk to you.

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