Ow.
After the shenanigans of Lanzarote (of which involved a bruised face, 2 black eyes, an allergic reaction, an hospital stay, skinny dipping, and a rather unforunate first experience), I am severely hungover after another night out on the Shoreditch tiles- or grass.
My entire body hurts, and not least from my unfortunate choice of outfit; a flowery, chiffon playsuit from Topshop that required deft wriggling to get in and out of every time I got the urge to pee, and someone else to button me back up every time I left the fucking port-a-potty. Which stank, by the way. Although that's probably stating the oh-so-obvious.
Despite the agony the morning after the night before, it was a rather good day. Albeit one that only served to strengthen my resolve not to drink beer, ever. Patrick Wolf was amazing with his glitter and fantastic costumes, Ulterior definitely went up in my estimation from the shocker that was the Astoria gig. Excellent too was the failure to ever make it to an official after party, and ending up too mashed to really care. I met someone new too, which is always a plus.
Fucking A.
Music- The Subways- Rock 'N' Roll Queen
xxx
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
it was fuucking excellent :)
ReplyDeleteAfterparties?! who needs them when you have vodka and a pavement on which to cotch
xx
yeahh...what exactly was that you sat on??
ReplyDeleteSome form of small armoire?? :s
ReplyDeletexxx