New Year's Eve / New Year's is always a good time and the best reason to get "wankered" (see: shitfaced). So what if I gave into the semi-forceful but full-on jaunty cheers of "SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS!" of Bacardi and Vodka? Does that nonchalance apply six times? Whatever, it was New Year's, right? Enough questions.
Besides the slurred words of me calling everyone beautiful and that they "Should really apply to Next Model Management 'cause they have a perfect nose," this post is to update the few of you that have been leaving amazing comments on some of my posts. I love you all because you all seem to love me and everyone knows the best kind of love is mutual love. Love yaw.
My dreams about Sheesha / Hookah have ended after I've gotten my almost-daily-fix of them. Shhh, don't tell anyone. Below is a douche-bag picture of me smoking, primarily for this post.
Thankfully, the banana I ate several hours earlier at the party prevented the hangover when I woke up. I had half a pancake, tea, and more tea. I started this post, did stuff between the lines, and am now finishing off this post.
I promise when I get back to Uncle Sam there will be more posts about life, fashion, life equated with fashion, and other great things. For now, I'm meeting some friends at Carla's (See: Carla's sheesha café Bahrain).
I'll right away snatch your rss as I can't to
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