Well you know you’ve had a good birthday when you actually pass-out cold in you’re Princess party dress and the people who were meant to be looking after you are passed-out too, at 4am in the morning. Then you are dramatically *shocked* up, to not at all know where you are, but in the back of a taxi, that is completely stuck in the snow, in the middle of what looked like Lapland, then are forced to flee the cab, in the freezing cold and snow, whilst the boys, without the permission of the cabby, decide to push the taxi up a slippy, snow laiden hill. We could’ve DIED! (Me, from simply being far to exotic to be in that temperature of air at 4am. And them for trying to take the full weight of a car, that was moving backwards, pissed and up a hill.) Then all i heard was ‘Leg-it!!!’ And at that point…if you have any sense at all…you run. I mean, if you’re northern…you can be the most drunk, most tired bufooon in the world ever, but as soon as you hear a ‘Leg-it,’ you bloody run and you run fast…in heels…in snow…in panic.
I had an AMAZING BIRTHDAY. AMAZING. It began at Wazzas, with Chris in tow, who had bought me racist party food. They claimed because of my ethnic origin, it was correct behaviour. I mean they usually don’t mix their races in food. They made me eat chinese satay sticks, whilst they had white man pizza. (Even though it’s Italian??) We also had fajhitas…due my mexican ‘can’t tell you about it‘ connection. 😉 However, i was forced to call them ‘Fadge eaters’ and oddly they were yummy. We got pissed on beer and baileys. Then popped open the Champagne…that had been cooled, whilst we watched Paedophiles get busted on the telly, because they wanted 14 year old girls to erotically hump cats. Great pre-party…which is always just code for ‘Making sure we’re pissed before we go out.‘ Then we jumped in a cab and ventured off into Wakefield. A place where some people believe they would rather ‘shit on their own hands and clap’ than go there. We almost bundled into a purple Ford Ka, under the misconception that it was the taxi…Anyway, i felt like a Princess. The boys treated me extremely well…which i adore. Boobs work everytime.
Get into Wakefield, and do a few of the bars. One had a naked David Hasslehoff cardboard cut out in it, with boys who had roast chicken balaclavas on. (Quality venue.) I was quite popular with the boys and the young girls in Wakey, but straight away i noticed that the women in the bar, we’re giving me daggers. ..which is something i’m sadly used to now. I find it funny, they find me…annoying. 🙂 After a drink, we moved on, in a beautiful snowfall to a bar downa dark alley. It was all warm and Christmasy and we were met by Dale, who is the best future husband ever, (he belongs to a freind of mine called ‘