I look so hawt right now, if Damon Salvatore saw me as I am right now, he'd devour me.... No seriously, I am so hungover and when I look in the mirror I feel violently sick. Positively, radiantly lookin like a cracktrampwhore on meth with Leprosy.
We decided to stay in last night and so I invited my friends round for dinner. I love cooking and considering curries are my guests' favourite dish, I decided to make one. I hate curry. Indian curries to be precise. I think it's all the 'bits' in it. Just gross. So even though I slaved like a mutha all afternoon to produce this Indian banquet, I myself just nibbled on rice and naan breads, thus not lining my stomach adequately and so following 3 bottles of wine, I was mullered. My home stinks of curry now, and no amount of Oust will make it go away, fml.
I can barely remember most of what we talked about last night but I woke up thinking about a prostitue school and vaguely remember Dani's asking if I would enrol. Apparently, I would attend. I think they make this shit up the next day to freak me out.
Quite clearly I am fuckin useless today, I'm still in my PJ's and it's 3pm. I've managed to force some food down me, little by little but I'm not 100% sure it's gonna stay there. Regurgitated tuna jacket spuds, I would imagine, are like Exorcist sick coming back up. I hope I don't find out :/
I'd write more but tbh, I'm screwed. If I could do anything right now, it would be to crawl back into 'The Womb' and stay there for at least a week.
The route I must travel now, to become and feel once again human? Hair of the dog. Has to be...
If I'm still alive tomorrow, I'll report :)
Ciao for niao
Raven xoxo
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