I’ll Have One Phone Breathaliser Please

Hangovers always make me reflect on life a wee bit. 

Yesterday I reflected on money, men and other mysteries of life.  The main questions I would like answered are a) Where does all my money go?  Despite my frugality I am still always broke.  b) Why is it that its always the men you really want the ones that aren’t that interested? And why is it that I keep sending text messages when I’m drunk to boys that I am mildly crazy about.

I’ve been doing this for years now. It started when I was in London.  And since then has escalated to the point that as soon as I have had a glass of white wine I feel the urge to say something along the lines of “I want to be on you” (I’ve PG rated this for you – usually the language involves mentions of licking, doodles, nakedness etc) to a boy that I fancy.  And the more I fancy them the more I send them.

I know that boys don’t like it that much, but what they never understand is that its almost involuntary.  I’m like an alcoholic.  Have wine, must drink.  Have phone, must text.

One day, when I finally succumb and jump off the anti-iPhone bandwagon, they will have surely developed an application to stop drunken texts.  I await this day with anticipation.