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I was a weed. Such a skinny little weed. I just couldn't put on weight; I couldn't put on muscle. I was the oddest shape. And I thought that was it: that's how I'd look for the rest of my life. And I'd beat myself up about it so much. But you change an awful lot. You're 16. Your body's not even halfway to what it'll end up being.
I'm a bit of a clothes hoarder, admittedly. I try to weed out stuff. My girlfriends come over for cheese and wine and go shopping in my wardrobe. They especially love it when they get stuff with a tag still on.
If we had paid no more attention to our plants than we have to our children, we would now be living in a jungle of weed.
Ignorance is an evil weed, which dictators may cultivate among their dupes, but which no democracy can afford among its citizens.
We must weed out corruption and build a strong system of justice that the people can trust.