The last year and a half I have been living the single high life and have been having so much fun just going out with the girls, dating a little bit, being a little bit of a hussy. But what people forget to mention when they talk about loving single life is the horror/comedy stories that come from dating.
Last night was a prime example. After watching New Zealand give Wales an awfully good smashing at the Millennium Stadium me and my housemate got well and truly smashed ourselves in Walkabout and Live Lounge and I bumped into an old friend in fancy dress. Santa fancy dress to be exact, exactly a month too early!
I'm a bit of a weirdo but show me a hot Santa and I will pounce... maybe I need to see a psychiatrist or maybe I just like the colour red and a full white beard. Saturday was no exception and the old friend came home with me. But me being me it didn't all go to plan and this hot Santa ended up spending the night hanging off the side of my bed with his head in a bucket. I must have looked more repulsive than I thought. His walk of shame/fame the next morning in his full Santa suit was interesting to say the least.
Oh well, another story added to the list. If you're lucky I might fill you in with some of the even more embarrassing anecdotes, of which there have already been many, and I'm sure there are even more to come because, as much as I'd like it, I don't think I'm likely to find a nice man to settle down with any time soon.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Leave a comment=]