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[theworldofvain]

I feel rather lost.

And woozy.

But mostly lost.

If anyone could direct me to something remotely, er, sane, I'll hold your hand or something. Or perhaps not. I'll make eye contact with you. How about that.

Things have just been rather blurry, I suppose (and if one of you makes a crack about my drinking habits I will let a toad loose in your panties,

Comments

[allthingsdivine]

I am so kicking you.

WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU ALL FUCKING WEEKEND?

I had the worst weekend ever, and there you are, drunk as can be.

Some best friend you are.

[allthingsdivine]

Okay, scratch that. I misunderstood. You WEREN'T drunk, just dead tired from studying, BUT STILL. You weren't there.

I hate you.

[theworldofvain]

Don't scratch at it. I may as well have been drunk. That tea I had was a bit too strong to be made out of herbs, but I'll never know for sure.

Darling, you don't hate me. How ever could you. Tell me how to make it up to you. (But I'm not giving you the Belgian chocolates.)

[theworldofvain]

Though something rather tells me this issue is more serious than any European chocolate, no matter how rum-laced, can fix.