9 days to do what I want

So yeh, I have 9 days to mooch around, session daytime TV (Alibi channel is for winners), muse over the fact that my hand looks like a nanna's, Wrinkle a GOGO, and generally make a nuisance of myself.


Me and Our Lass started my holiday off with a bang. I wore my fresh kicks (charity shop plastic leather-ette mum wedges) and she treated me to a pre-Valentines nite out. We were very loved up as we pranced around to Ralph Razor's DJ set at the Washington- as noted in a previous blog, he wasn't carrying the Benetar. We were gracious, but dont let it happen again, ok?

We got ID-ed. Twice. (26 years young).
Our asses dominated the dance floor. We cant help it, they just get in the way!
Our Lass insisted on being introduced to everyone. And then shaking their hands. She turned into Hillary Clinton for the night, it was weird. Maybe it had something to do with my shoes...they were pretty blinding.



Aside from all that..feeling blue?
Just think about Jimmy Eat World. Or Good Charlotte's first album.That always cheers me up...

''What's your name again? I always forget.''

P.S. Monday nite corp anyone?
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