So I know how hard I gotta work it.

Last night I worked late at the shop where I flog product to fancy customers while calling them "cuntycuntycunts" under my breath. It was kind of busy and I had to deal with some real narky fuckers, dear god was I ready for a drink affer it was all oves. Only thing was, the tramp I was supposed to be drinking with had pulled a sicky, and The Dude was out in the 'burbs at some Part-ay for Rich Professionals (NB obviously The Dude was there as a spy/fraud rather than as a Rich Professional; lately The Dude spends all his days lounging about the house drinking rum and reading Who Weekly cover to cover; as far as I can tell, this does not make him Rich or Professional). Anyway, point is that my darling co-conspirator in crime and alcoholism was Not Available, and so I headed back to the Slovenly Pit of Mutual Filth all alone. Aw.

Lucky for me, I'm pretty able when it comes to "making my own fun" - comes from being neglected as a child according to my therapist. So to cut a long story sideways, when The Dude came home a few hours later he found me in the kitchen with my friend the Newly-Empty Cask of Red, having quite a party of my own. There was music, there was drinking, there was dancing: only thing missing was BoringChitChatWithPeopleYouWishYouDidn'tKnow. Fucking good times were had by all (i.e. me). The Dude joined in, I slapped my arse while shaking booty to Missy Elliott, and then we pashed on like teenage bogans in the back of a ute. Awwwww.

What's that thing they say about drinking alone? Can't quite remember but I think it has something to do with "Productive Citizenship and Good for One's Health".

Health not so grand today, however; required late greasy breakfast & a lot of fluids. And my Yank friend is arriving tonight to stay for a couple of days, a turn of events which my astrology charts indicate may involve Alcohol.

xoxo nora