Oh yeah, the title of this post is totally a Kanye West reference…told you I was gangsta.
In all seriousness though, once again some sneaky bastard has infected me with their pathogens…I’ve only just managed to surface from the depths of my bed fort to write this.
Not only do I have a hacking cough, a fever, a sore throat and nausea, but I’m also sporting a fucking sexy nose whistle.
Thank god I’m a girl…the sheer amount of tissues overflowing my litter bin would have raised a few eyebrows by now.
Maybe I shouldn’t say “sneaky bastard” I do kind of know the reason I’m sick.
Ok fine, I know exactly why…
I went out with my friends the other day to my favourite club and had a bit of a “moment”.
There I was boogieing the night away when a cute guy came up to dance with me…
*Cue slow motion turn around, eyes meeting, seductive smile*
Pfft, yeah right.
Come on guys, this is me we’re talking about.
I, in fact, didn’t notice him and carried on dancing, flailing my arms around and by accident punched him on the nose.
Of course I turned around and apologised profusely, he lifted me off the ground in a hug and said it was all fine.
We danced together.
Ten minutes later, I look down and notice I have blood on my arm.
Turns out I hit him so hard he got a nosebleed.
…I’ll let that sink in for a minute…
…How much better do you feel about your life right now?
Anyway he ran off to go and get cleaned up and I legged it to the bathroom and met back up with my friends, not expecting to see him again.
A little while later I turn around and there he was so we dance together for a while until the DJ says “in ten seconds I wanna see everyone jump”.
On one he picks me up in front of the whole club and kisses me.
THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENED TO ME.
Then he did it again.
We sat down for a bit and exchanged numbers, and I had to resist his advances with the whole ‘wrong time of the month’ excuse, which I can inform you, is the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever had to say to another person in my entire life.
Praise the lord for vodka.
Don’t you just love mother nature?
When I got up to leave, instead of a sexy sashay away, I managed to walk straight into a bar stool and almost stacked it in my heels…
FAIL, Laura, FAIL.
And yet for some unknown reason I arrived home to a goodnight text.
I handed to my more experienced flatmate to deal with.
Rather than the mysterious allure I was going for, it resulted more in a bit too much obvious flirtation and way too many winky faces for my liking.
Then the alcohol buzz wore off and now everything is just very awkward.
In fact I walked past him on the way back from the Co-Op the other day and had to resist the urge to throw myself sideways into a hedge.
And I wonder why I’m still single.
Oh, did I mention he had a “cold”?
So now I’m both sick and sad.
All care packages to my bedroom please.
Stop it, minds out of gutters.
What am I going to do with you guys.