Monday, January 24, 2005


Growing up should read groaning up.

Friends can be such an annoyance - one begging me for honesty after nine drinks (brief catalogue involves 3 cocktails, 1 shot, various bottles of beer) and then moaning behind my back to my other friends, who she doesn't know that I had upset her. Boo hoo. Ask a dumb question get a dumber response. Sorry I hurt your feelings, but if it's tact you want then choose your time.

They can be a source of excellence - talking about the new Star Wars trailer whilst skivving off work, free-styling in the Fitzwilliam about Turkey Basters and Sausages, planning what we'll see up table mountain and scaring the shit out of me by mentioning that the Cable Car is going to revolve.

It can be a balancing act - two friends wrecking my head in work, expecting me to do everything for them while listening to woes which I actually know are self-constructed - the same two raging party ladies of the excellent variety...

Cats, at least you know where you are with them, those angry balls of furry rage.

To cat-ship, down with friendship, I don't think I can be bothered anymore!

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