Every year my birthday gets weirder. Some friends remember, some are forced to remember, most just remember because of the “once a year “syndrome, so that they can do away with the obligation.
But let that be, perhaps I should thank everyone in sight that I’ve managed to survive another year. 22, only, I’m not two but one fat duckling.
I’m living life by the weekends now. Everything is reserved for a Saturday or a Sunday. Read something, meet someone do Someone/something…everything: D
Every Friday night, I’m Sheryl Crow singing All I want to do, is have some fun, I got a feeling, I’m not the only one!
And every Sunday evening I’m Bon Jovi rebelling that Someday I’ll be Saturday night L
The other day in the bus I passed by this amazing Hair Salon called…guess what...THE HAIR PORT!!
Really hair raising that! :D But English is so amazing sometimes. There is this one client of ours who once sent us a message asking us not o test his “ patient”. Even I’m running out of patients…there are no mad people in the world today.
But CHOI ! You know what you did ? Every week now I go shopping. I’m a pauper, with lovely new shoes, jewellery, bags and “fat people” clothes! You created a MONSTER. A very happy cookie kinda monster though.
It’s actually a part of the FAT race, where the fattest, fastest fat wins. The clothes, that is.