I’ve felt ill all day due to some berry brandy dish from the dinner party last night. I never want to see any type of fruit in any type of liquor ever again. Maybe all my clean, healthy New Zealand has taken away my London edge? In the day I could go out on a Thursday night and roll in Tuesday morning with Swedish twins (Eric and Sven), a necklace of hickies and double vision (discovering half an later when the double vision wore off, that the twins were in fact just one Swede called Eric Sven).
I went for a jog to try and get me some of those endorphins they’re always talking about on infomercials, but it was hell, consisting of a sort of jog, jog, spit, jog, stumble, wretch
. I strolled the last ten minutes, overtaking a young couple.
‘Stop checking out that guy,’ said the girl to her male friend as I power walked away.
Oh yeah, still got it.