I’ve blogged it before and I will blog it again. I am getting older and sillier with every day.
I had a fantastic weekend away with my wonderful and brutally honest friend from London Miss Bella. We drank and shopped, drank and shopped, ate chips, shopped, got massages, drank and ate kebabs.
In between the all the shopping, drinking and perving on hot British backpackers, I was FRICKING EXHAUSTED. I had to keep stopping in the street for a little sit down. Which Bella disapproved of by yelling down the street “What are you eighty fricking nine?”
I could not help it. I am not as young as I used to be. My body has hit that time when a hangover lingers for a week, and I need a decent sleep to be able to function.
Not only do I not function so well, I seem to have become even stupider when I am drunk. On one of our nights out I sent 63 drunk text messages to a variety of people. SIXTY THREE. Seriously, what the fuck was I thinking? Obviously one needs to take their phone out for emergency purposes in case you ended up stranded and alone. But I know that the majority of mine were either sexting, texting my friends in the UK to tell them I miss them (at international rates) or random texts to my friends saying things like I’m teleporting you a glass of wine.
Not only that, Bella thinks that at the age of 26 I am already slightly senile.
But disregarding these comments, sometimes in life you get really lucky to blessed with awesome friends, great weather, nice clothes and good times.
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