So Saturday night Lovely Hot Ros and her fella came round to check out the swanky poshness of my palatial abode and much fun was had, I had finally made a clean break with my boyfriend the toilet and, although it didn't want to let me go, it finally resigned itself to moving on and I was free (imodium - get some - fucking amazing stuff).
We had some wine and we were talking about stuff and Ros mentioned an impression of this girl we all know that I do, it is an HILARIOUS impression, such is my talent for the lost art of the mimic (and by hilarious I mean cruel and by talent I mean I'm a bitch who is destined for hell), this impression involves lots of hair flicking and storming out of rooms to make a point so I duely stood up in order to flick my hair and storm out into the kitchen. I flicked my hair, I swung around, I lost my balance, I smacked my face into the door frame and....
now I have a black eye.
Which is an AWESOME thing to go back to work with.
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2 comments:
we demand photographic evidence!!
"i've been off sick" yeah yeah... where else were you bruised? Did he beat you? You poor thing! You've had a week off to hide the abuse!
Or you could just look them in the eye and whisper, "Fight club".
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