FCUK 63--that's me. For the next few years, my foremost expression of myself will be good old FCUK 63. Though I might only need you so I can see, by being slapped on my face you are essentially a constant fashion accessory so let's make the most of it.
Sipping tea at 5 o'clock on the dot with the Women's Institute, your sensible design will please elder conservatives while your flash of colour will thrill progressives. When you get lost during tomfoolery down the pub with the Long Island Iced Tea Ladies Society, even in that state I'll be able to spot you and remember we belong together. Stumbling to the front door in the middle of the night to find a police constable telling me they're very sorry but there's been an accident, there you'll be right there with me FCUK 63, hanging lop-sided across my face from one ear with a bright streak to lighten the mood.
You and me, FCUK 63. I think we're going to get on just fine.