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I had a friend who in the be-pseudonymed world of my memoirs is called Melanie P. My friend Melanie had a long-term boyfriend who would chuck her every summer and come crawling back every autumn. In the movie of my life story this is her song. I can’t listen to this song without imagining Melanie singing along to this in an early 90s powersuit with the immaculate be-fringed hairstyle sported here by Lonnie Gordon.

My memoirs really can’t write themselves fast enough can they?

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