The Cat has returned with companion to start drinking late afternoon. Everyone else has left to attend the ice hockey match, but I’m more content to laze around the hostel. I’m dragged into the drink-a-thon as you know I have little will power and I’m clearly easily led. Especially when it comes to people who somehow hold something over me. We’ve rattled back a bottle of wine quicker than you can say this is shite, and headed out to stock up on booze before everyone gets back. It doesn’t take long until we’re out on the town.
The Cat is being relentlessly flirty, then backing off, then flirty again. This has got something to do with the fact that she is getting out of her nut on booze. She isn’t alone. Earlier she’s got hold of my little finger in the kitchen, as near as damn-it to holding my hand. “That’s not right!” shrieks one girl who appears to enjoy winding me up, sticking an oar in and stirring the spoon. Ironic considering she’s cooking. Of course she’s referring to the “new girlfriend” I’ve apparently got, and so I clearly must be cheating on her. This is news to me. Of course everyone also seems to know something I don’t, and it’s not long before The Cat is giving me the third degree.
“So how’s the new girlfriend?” she mockingly asks. To which all I can reply is that I don’t have a new girlfriend and she should stop listening to tittle-tattle. Honestly I wish people would mind their own damn business. I cannot stand gossips, fishwifery, backstabbers, naysayers and shit spreaders. Mud sticks, but he who is without sin can cast the first stone. Get something better to do.
Mind your own business
The Cat has returned with companion to start drinking late afternoon. Everyone else has left to attend the ice hockey match, but I’m more content to laze around the hostel. I’m dragged into the drink-a-thon as you know I have little will power and I’m clearly easily led. Especially when it comes to people who somehow hold something over me. We’ve rattled back a bottle of wine quicker than you can say this is shite, and headed out to stock up on booze before everyone gets back. It doesn’t take long until we’re out on the town.
The Cat is being relentlessly flirty, then backing off, then flirty again. This has got something to do with the fact that she is getting out of her nut on booze. She isn’t alone. Earlier she’s got hold of my little finger in the kitchen, as near as damn-it to holding my hand. “That’s not right!” shrieks one girl who appears to enjoy winding me up, sticking an oar in and stirring the spoon. Ironic considering she’s cooking. Of course she’s referring to the “new girlfriend” I’ve apparently got, and so I clearly must be cheating on her. This is news to me. Of course everyone also seems to know something I don’t, and it’s not long before The Cat is giving me the third degree.
“So how’s the new girlfriend?” she mockingly asks. To which all I can reply is that I don’t have a new girlfriend and she should stop listening to tittle-tattle. Honestly I wish people would mind their own damn business. I cannot stand gossips, fishwifery, backstabbers, naysayers and shit spreaders. Mud sticks, but he who is without sin can cast the first stone. Get something better to do.