Vegetarian Barbeque

Last night I sort-of kind-of gate crashed this poor guys house party. It was a vegetation barbecue, Fernanda being a pure carnivore was truly appalled and voiced this accordingly, in her demure, quiet way, using a megaphone.

We rudely brought with us a whole bunch of meat, chorizo and pate while the outnumbered hosts were eating veggie nachos and watermelon.

Friday morning, I went to the gulag (Beale and Inman) and was imprisoned there for about 8 hours of hell.

I swore to myself, as I slaved away,

“I wont go out today, I’ll go out on Saturday instead”,

Swore it.

Of course then temptation, in the form of Fernanda and lets just call the other girl L, called to invite me out for a drink.

A harmless drink in a pub, just one I say, I’ll have just one and then I’ll be done. (I add poetically)

Of course, I ended up going uninvited to this guy’s party. How rude I know, and this house (which was quite nice) was an absolute wreck by morning. I do not envy the cleanup crew.

Ben was sweet enough to walk me to the bus stop at about 5:30 to catch the bus. F and L were still wobbling inside and refusing to leave even though they were one more pixie stick away from completely collapsing. But one has to admire their pure stamina to keep going and going and going, much like two small, strange and occasionally very feisty Duracell bunnies.

At some point I was sitting on a plush white sofa surrounded by 2 frilly skirts and four girly legs all over mine. A nice position to be in I must admit.

Fernanda (in her charming mexican accent) says,

“You KNOW, I could NEVER play around with kissing because it might be a turn on, RIGHT.”

I mumble something incoherent in reply.

L decided it was time to frighten the girl standing nearby by snogging me and trying to snog Fernanda. (‘snog’ is such a great word isn’t it? Much like ‘twat’, it really fills up your mouth)

So the girl, dutifully freaked, ran off with a horrified look on her face.

But anyway, what I was thinking about, and what I should have said instead of mumbling, was that it didn’t matter how many girls or boys kissed me. It wouldn’t do anything for me, not just like that.

Platonic kissing by definition:
Can never really be a ‘turn on’, not because the person (girl or boy) is unattractive but because you know there is a lack of any real intention behind it.

Without intention kissing becomes only slightly more fun than a handshake.

……..well just a little bit more than slightly….

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