Its the new cool thing so they say. You just need to finish your assignment, a wanker next to you giggled nonstop whatever he is reading on fuckbook. The classic social networking problem, whatever Procrasturbate joy it is he figures it would be nice to share giving my pc wire a good boot sending my 5 pages essay down the drain. Brilliant!
In a seethe ball of rage, head to the nearest bar to cool down. Cantabury was canning some shitty South African team in the Super 14, Rosy was an out of town rugby enthusiast was amazed that an Asian is into this kind of sport, whatever. We get drunk and bar hopping. It's deserted save ourselves, a bar tender, and his friends; they were conversing in foreign tongue, "you're butchering the fucking language, that's not how you speak Chinese." Stunned, thtey rubuke: "we're speaking French." Clearly, you could say anything to Rosy and she'd hear whatever she wanted. "Let's go back to my place, I have more wine," I say. We fool around for abit, the she requests a bottle of white wine. Holy shit this broad is for real! So I humbly brought over whatever shitty liquor my flatmate had left since the ancient period.
It's Saturday, she knocks back another bottle of Lindauer Brut in half an hour. What a champion just as usual. Then she turns to me, "you're not commited at all! It's been a week, and you're not taking our relationship seriously. In fact, you haven't mentioned that you're going to move to Mosgiel so we can be together." It's 2 in the morning and I wish I were in bed, but instead, I'm trapped in a car with a very strang cat. She continues, "in fact, you're abusing me.....just like my last boyfriend."
Then, it call comes out. Her ex was in his mid 60s (wtf??!!). He was horribly abusive (that is shit, guys should be cool, like me). Over 2 hours she works up a story as to how I am terrible. It's partially true: I'm not wanting to move to Mosgiel, because it sucks, and I am just hanging out with her because she's fun, and she's a great drinking buddy. But I'm not her ex-bf, I won't pretend to be, and I'm not her knight in shining armour. These 3 things are not for wise men. So I get out of the car, strap the seat belt on her, and walk away. Ciao ciao Princeess!
