yesterday i went drinking in the belgium beer garden. leffe blonde all day and then all night equals th oh territory. thanks to the pryl train i wasn't getting ripped off blind, but it doesn't help things when you bring a tray of about 6 glasses of belgium's finest back to the table and then manage to plonk it down unevenly and spill beer
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and i must have dozed off in the chair and he woke me up and told me that i had been talking in my sleep. I asked him what I had said:
"I'm so glad that I moved to Melbourne!" Multiple times.
no shit. maybe this is my subconscious talking sense
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