Friday 25 January

The hot water is fixed!

I secretly celebrate this fact throughout the weekend, while paying lip service to Petra Couture’s birthday bonanza (young, pretty and talented – how much more does she wish lavished upon her?) With Daisy leaving on Sunday it is also imperative that I get drunk for 48 hours and, by and large, I succeed. Three happy excuses thus combine and before I know it, it is thirty-eight-past-four in the morning and Mimi Pixel and I are back at the flat, talking God and Relationships over a bottle of my emergency pulling wine. Just as I am pressing home my irreconcilable proof of a godless, barren universe (breaking both legs as I throw myself from the roof - twice - to make my point) Mimi inhales once too often (I fear she imagined it tobacco) and plunges into an unholy (alright, angelic) sleep upon the ottoman. Next time Mrs!


Single Mother on the Verge said...

You really should watch what you go giving those young damsels. Sounds like poor Mimi was out for the count.

Smov x

Cotton and Coal said...

It takes more than a little unconsciousness to stop that feisty one! BB x