Again, I find myself alone on the living room sofa watching music channels, on a Friday evening. Though this time, i can at least be comforted by the fact that i do have an excuse as to why I am not out, gyrating my bottom against a poor guy, only to find that he's in my younger sister's class at school...
..You see, I had a rather unfortunate fall down the stairs the other evening (fuelled by wine, of course), which resulted me now hobbling around my house, in a similar fashion to my seventy year old nanny.
So, as much as I would love to go and dance to the new Pussycat Dolls track on one of many sticky Essex dancefloors, I'm not entirely convinced that my fuck-me gold stripper heels (they're gorgeousss honest!) compliment my massively swollen left knee. It's not such an awful consequence though - it means i can practice the Rolex Sweep from the comfort of my leather sofa, (though I'm convinced the old boy over the road is watching through his net curtains...) and not panic too much about getting shot down by those highly made up, short girls, wearing tight pencil skirts - they assume they own the club, though I'm not sure how they can even dance in it, with the corset-like structures they seem to pour themselves into (which also seems to results in giving them a pained expression, as if perhaps, they got a whiff of the damp carpet/B.O./vomit/overpowering air freshener, which can be found at most clubs frequented by students)
... Wow, I'm actually pretty pleased to be sitting at home now! No vomit... No leacherous eastern european man... No panic over whether it's mee that smells of B.O.. Great! Just a promise of a mug of tea, an ice pack on my throbbing knee, and maybe later, a bit of dirty msn convo with a particulary naughty male friend of mine.. ;)