To pretend that I didn't intentionally block Adam. Whoopsie. Still, never mind.
Since the last time I blogged, several things have happened.
I got drunk and chatted up a sixteen year old, and now have to defend myself against people calling me a paedo.
I considered writing a Mills and Boon style romance between two of my friends who MUST eventually get it together because otherwise I will just die.
I invited nice Katie to come to a vintage fair.
My brother got shingles.
I sort of babysat Rachel's son Finley, who is mental and lovely all at the same time, but he kept ganging up on me with my other friend, and considering my other friend is about ten feet tall, I lost. Miserably.
He pokes HARD.
I let Abi have access to my blog again! She's nice. Hi Abi :D Welcome to the nuthouse.
I did an exam this morning. I think I've done okay, but to be honest the question involving why authors named their characters particular things was horrible, but better than the only other option. They also had my all time favourite question, which is nice of them.
Matt's a knob now. Remind me to delete him from here. Should have done that while I was adding Abi.
And also Katie!! Nice Katie who is coming a-vintaging with me.
Abi and Dani are taking pictures of me. Unimpressed. Look like a troll with massive breasts today.
The unfortunate circumstances of forgetting that you are wearing your lowest top and wearing a push-up bra.
I mean, they looking CRACKING.
But it's the only thing you can see.
Wearing my awesome parrot skirt. And my purple boots. Looooooooves teh boots. Intentional typo.
I am doing literally no work, because I cba.
Katie is bashing her head on the table and complaining about life.
I understand her pain.
Moaning about boys wanking now.
Kind of understand that one too.
She's realised I'm writing about her, and looks a BIT pissed off.
She isn't.
She has confessed her secrets.
It's fair enough.
She wants to know why.
Bahahahahaha.
Shall never tell.
Perhaps we will discuss it later when I get home so that we don't have the unfortunate incident that will unvariably happen where I blurt out her secrets to the whole room and Dani takes it and tells EVERYONE.
It will be Dani.
Or Ryan.
He's an arse.
I think I have to go to a finance talk in a minute.
HATE.
HATE FINANCE.
Ryan tells me frequently that I have a mustache.
It's degrading.
KATIE YOU DO NOT NEED TO SEARCH FOR IT
I KNOW
I KNOW I DON'T HAVE ONE.
Nah, Katie is beautiful.
And not a man.
Just going to start talking to her outloud now.
She'd guessed it all.
Not it all.
But the basic concept.
Leaving now, <3 to all. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
I have realised, in hindsight, that I posted this at about two o'clock, and by five o'clock the ten foot tall friend was my six foot four boyfriend. Weeeeeeeeird. But cool. But also weird.
ReplyDelete