this whole time i though screeching "tits out for the boys" with that giggling-lolita tone was a macrob thing to be done around MHS boyz.
apparently i was everso naive. i heard it a least twice at steve and nicks (or sticks) 18th. the whole world, topsy-turby.

it wasn't that it was a bad party, in actual fact it would have been quite festive. the only downfall was it was really cold and i was the only one not from FC. left at about nine. they live in the street next to my mother house, but no, i walked back to the flat. samuel escorted me. and we ate hummous and flatbread.

and then i went to sleep and he left to return to the party. he was gone for six minutes. apparently there was a group of teenagers throwing a party and apparently they were intimidating and apparently samuel ran straight back to the flat and locked the door firmly behind him. and then we watched chomsky.