Will sing for booze.....

Well, what an absolute disaster last night turned out to be!!!
You know when little annoying things happen pre-going out which tell you that its gonna be a bad night? Well, I had one of the worst experiences of that last night...ever! It took mw absolutely ages to decide what to wear. I know girls tend to be terrible at deciding on an outfit, but in general I'm really not that bad. But...last night I just felt like nothing fitted right, too small, too saggy, too short, too slutty, too boring...honestly, nothing was good enough. After I'd literally thrown all my items of clothing around the floor desperatley seeking the perfect outfit, I settled on a purple dress. MISTAKE. While I was just standing/sitting around my bedroom the dress was fine. As soon as I got outside I realised I'd made a terrible school boy error. With each step I took, the dress hitched up a few centimeters, and by the time I had walked quarter of the way to the club, my knickers were on show to anyone waking/driving past. The humiliation! So, after moaning to my Boosh & Monkey for a few minutes about me wanting to go home and change, they finally persuaded me that it looked OK and neither of them would go back with me. What would Monkey know of the discomfort a girl must go through to look good!?!? He just slings on the same jeans he's had on (since birth I think!!) and a tshirt and he's good to go.

Monkey and I went food shopping today. Instead of spending out usual £40-45, we managed to scrape the barrel by only buying 'Morrissons Betta Buy' range, and got away with only spending a mere £26! Not bad for two people. I even managed to get some frozen kebabs in there. Now thats what I call skill! Because of our money shortage, Monkey made me walk home! Yep, thats right, walk home with the shopping! Walking to the supermarket was bad enough, let alone walking back! And then to have to put the shopping away...the misery!
While I was packing the shopping in Morrissons, a question entered my head, as they tend to do quite often these days. Why is it that men can't open plactic bags? Is it some kind of male retardation that it is just not physically possible for them to rustle a bag open? I mean, us girls can just do it in one try. Men however just sort of rustle it between their fingers for a while with as much concerntration they'd use if they were attempting some death defying tight-rope walk, then stop in their tracks, look at us with those pathetic puppy dog eyes and muter something like 'I just can't do it'. Like a small child would say about riding a bike or tying their shoe laces. And they have ther nerve to say we are weaker than them. Yu-huh, at least we can open plastic bags!
As i am writing this, which might I add, is turning into a bit of an obsession, Monkey is at his flat doing his blog! i miss him when he's not here, non of his silly one-liners or dumb jokes! I hope he comes back soon so I get off this blog thing....its becoming quite addictive! I should be out there earning money, not sat in my squalor typing nonsense. I should be out there on the streets of Leicester with a sandwich board attached to myself informing passers by that "I WILL SING FOR BOOZE" or at least "MONEY FOR BOOZE"! So if I am tugging on anyones heart strings out there, I will accept any donations of cash or alcohol gladly, to see me through this tough time........Thankyou kindly x