Are you my Brew Daughter? Please say yes.

Are you my Brew Daughter? Please say yes. I will swaddle you in a frozen mug and keep you safe in a Keg. Sweet Brew Daughter, you are a pale ale now, but you will blossom into

a full-bodied, hop-infused

skater girl. She was a girl. She was one too. Can I make it any more obvious? She was a punk. She did ballet. What more can I say? She wanted her. She'd never tell. Secretly

the Floella the punk ballerina yearned to hold the other girl's hand. Then maybe kiss her on the cheek. Then pirouette & yell in her face. The usual girl on girl stuff that dreams

of boys are made of. That and everyone knows how flexible ballerinas are. Floella went en pointe & raised one leg over her head as Sid Vicious pushed the other girl aside. Lifting

his guitar into the air, he sneered at Johnny Rotten and then smashed the instrument to bits. "Never mind the Bolshoi..." Johnny sang as the ballerinas stage dived into the arms

Of the audience, who was cheering. One ballerina was a Russian lady who looked absolutely stunning in her red dress and matching shoes. She fled the scene and walked home.

She got home, took off her shoes and then she saw it. The blisters. They were all over her feet. But ballet was her dream and a few blisters weren't going to stop her anymore.

The practice was grueling. At Randwanskaya ballet academy she was pushed to her limits and beyond. The blisters became bloody. and later caluses formed. Her feet were beastial.