Le Big Mac

Dear readers, I took the freedom to exercise some vulgarity last night. Thaifood with the Lo(c)ksmith and we concluded that we always over orders and end up looking like two pigs. Last eve was especially notorious cause its apparently some kind of soft-tofu chinese valentines day, there were frickin rose petals on our table and me in my uniqlo sweatpants with lard stains. We keep saying "im so fucking hungry" every second minute the food doesnt arrive. actually im lying, we kept saying that even when the dishes started to show up at our table with the exception that we added "this is so fucking good" and "shit, this is fucking great". After dinner I went back to get changed and went to say farewel/c u again/keep smelling my panties to some ppl. before heading to the Flat to shake my lambchops to Hed Kandi.

This morning I woke up with the worst headache ever since grad 6 when I thought skiing drunk is a great idea and hit my head on the slope. Brother Lo(c)ksmith never shows up to the Kandi party so I figured he was making love to his Genie in the bottle. She is his latest conquest and I think I like her and her pastell colored clothes. I wonder if he would be happy or mad if I tell him that I would totally do her if she was a hobby-lesbian like me.

It´s 4.38am and I just got off the phone with the monsieur, Im starting to realize that being dramtic doesnt decline with age. I think the only reason why I´m still enjoying him is because I get to live out my own PG version of Delta of Venus. I wonder what mother will say, problably something in the line with A bachelor needs inspiration to sleep with you darl but a married guy only needs an excuse, ride this one out, this one is made of glass n not the unshattered kind.