Sort Your Life Out

So it's 5am, Sunday morning and there's a few stragglers from the night before who still haven't gone to bed. I'm sitting in a room with a drunk Paula, a man playing a guitar who's telling us all how much coke and whatever else he's taken and when his baby's due, petty abuse is being hurled back and forth between myself and an Englishman, there's an American navy guy and 2 girls who don't even stay here, one of which is sprawled across a couch sleeping and the other I'm positive was just in a toilet cubicle with a boy. Grim.

Anyways, somehow there's all these pretend accents flying about, some better than others ;) and this Aussie guy walks in so I hit him with my best Aussie accent and he actually believed me! Not only did he believe me but when I eventually told him I was actually Scottish he didn't believe it! I'd finally done it, I'd practised so much I lost my own identity. I started questioning who the f*!k I was and went to bed. I lost money, Paula lost her bag, Paula broke in to a bar (neither of us know the details), I found Paula's bag, we missed a flat viewing the next day and were 2 hours late for a mashed potato date with a friend AND {mum and dad close your eyes} I kissed the first Canadian. High five!!

1 grand down, we need to sort our lives out and get jobs.

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