Today has been a day of retail therapy.
My little arms ache so much from the weight of the bags and bags of clothes I have purchased. So much so I have had to come home to drop them all off before I hit the Sales again.
Thus far I have spent enough money to repay the national debt of a minor Third World country. I know the tree-hugging hippies amongst you will cast a scornful glance in my direction and moan about my spending encouraging the capitalistic mega-corporations to employ more under-age child slaves in Indian sweat shops in order to cope with my extra requirements, but I don't care.
Next time I am turned-down by a prospective tottyfriend I shall at least look very hip and snazzy as I cry in to my vodka.
I have solved the mystery of the random strange female who sent me her "new mobile number". It was the gorgeous, vivacious Leola. She signed the text using her real name, which confused me loads. Fortunately, the particularly creative use of the word "fucker" in her comment on yesterday's journal helped the penny drop. Apologies.
I have also just remembered that it is Leola's house-warming party this weekend. I forgot to come. I'm crap. I am currently toasting her good health and happy house-warming by partaking of a Bailey's coffee (it is pure coincidence that I have run out of milk and found a Baily's Mini at the back of my fridge). I hope the party goes/went well and you all have loads of embarrassing stories to tell me.
Happy Weekend, my friends
My little arms ache so much from the weight of the bags and bags of clothes I have purchased. So much so I have had to come home to drop them all off before I hit the Sales again.
Thus far I have spent enough money to repay the national debt of a minor Third World country. I know the tree-hugging hippies amongst you will cast a scornful glance in my direction and moan about my spending encouraging the capitalistic mega-corporations to employ more under-age child slaves in Indian sweat shops in order to cope with my extra requirements, but I don't care.
Next time I am turned-down by a prospective tottyfriend I shall at least look very hip and snazzy as I cry in to my vodka.
I have solved the mystery of the random strange female who sent me her "new mobile number". It was the gorgeous, vivacious Leola. She signed the text using her real name, which confused me loads. Fortunately, the particularly creative use of the word "fucker" in her comment on yesterday's journal helped the penny drop. Apologies.
I have also just remembered that it is Leola's house-warming party this weekend. I forgot to come. I'm crap. I am currently toasting her good health and happy house-warming by partaking of a Bailey's coffee (it is pure coincidence that I have run out of milk and found a Baily's Mini at the back of my fridge). I hope the party goes/went well and you all have loads of embarrassing stories to tell me.
Happy Weekend, my friends
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No piccies of you in hip, trendy, sexy gear?! Woot?!
Oh, and can I borrow your .45? There are some neighbourhood dirtbags who need effective permanent removal.