I like his style.
And was just the opener.
Dear future self,
If your brain says;
‘his name is voldermort, that’s probably a bad sign’
Then it is a bad sign.
As a part of my fruitless, drunken, persuit of my next great date or horizontal dance partner, on Thursday night I had one of my top gal pals accompany me to a bar in the city, and act as quality control for potential male talent (because lets face it, I need help). (more…)
As usual, todays story is about a boy. He’s a friend of a friend and despite me being slightly standoffish and hideously drunk the night we met, there ended up being cute hand holding and a barrage of compliments. I’d be totally lying if I said it wasn’t the kind of rubbish we single females are constantly not trying to give into. He was charming, to say the least so true to form I got drunk and kissed him because he was hot and if I’m honest – I wasn’t just drunk, I was slightly wooed. (more…)