I only ended up staying out until eleven as my body was refusing to turn the alcohol I was feeding it into that lovely giggly drunken feeling. And I only enjoy dancing when I'm drunk. And I had a sweaty neck. Yummm.

Some 'old enough to be your father' type unsuccessfully tried to chat me up on the way out. I thought he was one of the bouncers so I was a little confused when he asked, "Are you going to Chicago's? Cause I want to get to know you better!" I haven't been chatted up for ages.

Today I was unable to wear my first choice of top due to having an angry looking spot in the middle of my chest, which actually looks like a misplaced bindi.

I'm off to London in a couple of hours or so. I intend on finding some buffaloes, purchasing them, and then bringing them home to use as footwear.

I just have to wait until I can be arsed to move from this chair.

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