Friday night saw me go into town for one too many drinks with the gang, which meant Saturday saw me, feverish and ever so slightly hungover. (When the mother says don't go out with that cold, she may be right, but think of all the fun i would have missed!). She wasn't too impressed with the appalling smell i left in the living room either, courtesy of a lamb kebab (not me!). The thought of the contents of that innocent looking take-away box sober is actually sickening, funny how you view them when your pissed, guess it's the same with certain one night stands and instead of being disgusted with the smell (well maybe that too), it's the sight of what's lying next to you in the morning.
Town greeted me with the usual crowds, pervy old men, pervy young men, the people you hate, the people who hate you, chavs, 'dickheads', wannabes and everyone in between. I'd love to know which group i fall into, hopefully none of the above.
However much my friends and i hate where we were born, we keep going back to it's vile, idiot populated, sometimes dangerous heart to socialise, could it be we love it really? (Nah mate, it's just the closest place we can buy alcohol and then stumble back home. We're students, it's what we do, i don't want to ruin any stereotypes for you now).
I fear we may be umbilically tied here for life. I just hope i'm not still living here in 10 years times. fuck that, lets make it 5.
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