Partying At No.5 Cavendish

Me, Sam and a chica named Denise. Samuel and i had been merrily trollied off to three different clubs and ‘No.5’ was our second stop, after Vendome. I just remember being so drunk, (it hit me in a taxi) to the point that i could’ve quite possibly vomitted. I also remember looking at Sam (who i’ve now named my boobs after since he’s had his face in them more than any other man. One is called ‘Samuel’ and the other ‘J Hextall’) and seeing him trying to poorly function after about 7 shots of Grey Goose. (Like he couldn’t keep his eyes open. He’ll do that…he’ll just fall asleep in the club. LOL.) We surprisingly look ‘Greatness’ in this picture, (for a couple of drunken slags) but we are actually trashed..and that my Darlings, is how IT IS DONE! Lots of people we’re taking pictures of us that night inside the clubs, from everywhere at every bad angle. We’d be doing the ‘Robot,’ wiggling to Lady Gaga and gossiping about people we hate, then we’d have to stop, try to look as sober as possible and pose with someone inbetween us. It should be a dance move. Ah…the life of a tragic Socailite!

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