Thursday, 2 July 2015


I'VE JUST NOTICED that it looks like I am 
talking to that bottle of wine. Which is absurd. 
Because I would never do that.
(What's that, Red Knot? Did you just tell me 

I'm beautiful? Goddam you.)   

My best friend left for Paris today. Without me. Which would normally instantly nullify her "best friend" status, but she had a very good reason for that plus who am I kidding, I can barely afford my daily plonk let alone a transatlantic flight to Europe's dining-and-shopping mecca. 

On the other hand, I do speak fluent francaise and I could have come in very handy as a translator. Providing she planned to curse at everyone she met and also ask, "Where the fuck does one get the good wine around here, you euro-bastards?" 
I made that pitch to her but she was curiously resistant. 

Anyway, I was feeling a wee bit sorry for myself this afternoon so I bought a bottle of something decent and sat outside in the gazebo that almost killed four grown men and enjoyed the astonishingly glorious weather that was a consolation prize from God.

EDITOR'S NOTE: You see what your friend has done, here? She has given you an awesome, iron-clad reason to get shit-hammered.
MY NOTE: This is why she is my best friend.
p.s. Enjoy your time in Paris, my beautiful friend. Ma petite chou.You so deserve it.