You know, the thingie that I’m writing over contained the line “well whatever happened to jennifer connelly? what made-for-tv movie will she turn up in next?” and that was Octoberish 99 and since then she’s won an Oscar, so there you go. Shit, losing my place, slightly nauseous = obviously fucking drunk. But it’s like, Nigel’s birthday so I have a real reason to be, honestly. Yeah.

Anyways, so my day was sleeping in, until Bopha made me and Clay watch ‘Sholin Kids’. Fuck that’s a brilliant movie! So good. And then her and I went to the swoopermomarket adn stopped by to see KateM (KateM kicks ass!) and yeah rah rah. Then i got Emma to drop me at Jeremy’s, cos I was going to his house for dinner. He had a fucking hot english boy staying with him and I think we all know hwat suckers for accents women are, so yeah,my panties were well moist. ALSO! him and this other guy put “well” before all their adjectives, and you just know I”m well going to be doing that from now on.

Much later (ie: two and a half bottles later) me and Jezza took a Taxi to Verboten on Ponsonby Road to wait for everone else. People came later and that was cool. Jezza bought me a fucking nice cocktail – he didn’t know what wsa in it – he said he said to the bartender that he wanted a gorgeous drink for a gorgeous girl, and fuck it was good. Many many drinks, and lots of intense talking. Jezza is super funny and we have lots in common. Heh. Anyways. I guess evetually someone someone decided that we should leave Verboten, and so I found myself inh the backseat of Ryan’s car (he of the long distance and kumikumi pig) and I was completely disorientated, But eventually we were queueing outsidea Wyndam Street Bowling Club, and I was like What the fuck? why am I queieing to pay $15 to listen to HOUSE MUSIC? So I went down to Queen St, walked up a bit and got a taxi home. And here I am. HI! HELLO! HI! Rah rah rah. There’s like, missed oppotunities and shit, but I think this is better in general, me being umm fuck, altruistic and shit. Yeah. Colour me DLT.

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