By the end of this blog, I shall be drunk. 

It is an ungodly Christmas season as the temperatures near 100 degrees on a regular basis and the Perth “Doctor” only calls once a day or so. The Doctor I speak of is a cool breeze that sweeps in every afternoon to give us all a cool down. Doesn’t quite do the trick. 

have decided that the very best thing for me today was to lie perfectly still with Breakfast at Tiffany’s (Which I will give a complete review for later on. Holly Golightly was a racist whore… I’m just speaking trooth. Flew her poon all the way to Africa. Mean reds. Im so sure. Slag.) Anyhow, I read the story but since it is so short Im reading it very slowly. What a champion of literary deconstructionism. C+ student thankyouverymuch.

Anyhow, I raided the pantry and all these Effin Italians have is fuckin wine wine wine. Over it. Its too hot. What I need is a mint julep but I’ve nothing for that. So what I need is a mojito. Ive nothing for that either. 

Done. Big bottle of Gin.. of whose I have no idea but I looked in my arse and couldn’t find one measly shit to give about who it belongs to. (MK). And so I poured Gin ( i hate Gin but it suddenly seemed like the coldest thing ever) and I had water and ice cubes. 

So I made that. I drank that. I got drunk on that. 

After a while I decided that it was going to be too hot to make fried rice tomorrow morning for breakfast so the best thing to do is to make it tonight and also Mommy Dearest clean the shit out of the kitchen while I waited for the rice to fry. 

Here is how it went from last step to first: 

10) say aloud: “Oh, thank God Im not driving, eh, nobody?” 

9) shoo roach away from tupperware in pantry so I can store burnt rice. 

8) go “Oh shit. rice is burnt!” 

7) laugh and sigh at thought of ever being this drunk if I was a mother making kids lunch for school tomorrow. 

6) contemplate going through his shit

5)Decide that the entire carton of eggs is just right as I will use it to make up for the absence of chicken in my chicken fried rice. 

4) swirl ice cubes in my drink while I wait for pan to heat up

3) decide that its okay that I don’t really have to cook for anything other than its something to do

2) Get up and check ingredients.

1) “Fried rice sounds good for breakfast tomorrow. Ill make some.” — me to myself and my glass of gin.

*All of the windows in the house are open and it is stagnant to say the least but on occasion, there is a very nice gust of cold wind. The only trouble is that everyone gets up and does something at this house, it is 1030pm. The S. African next door is completely watching TRUE BLOOD with his peeps and they are fully into it. I hate them all. 

God. Balki Bartakomos (sp?) Just got home. 

I just felt a droplet of sweat. And Im just sitting here! God this heat! Gin and Ice Cold Water is the name of the game in the evening. I swear. 

p.s. I got new glasses today. They ma ma ma make me ha ha happy. My eyes are raining over them. 

By the way, I killed it at the gym tonight. Im so glad I raced home for fried rice and gin. Loser.