First of all, I handed in my dissertation today. Thank f**k for that. Although I can't be that happy until I get the grade back, a 3rd would be fairly embarassing, and a serious possibility. Now onto the subject. Delusional or Just Hot. It's on the glorious domain of a night out, which tomorrow night will be an amazing thought and it's been a long time. Now, I'm potentially the only person who thinks this on a night out, but I'd guarantee I'm not. Now I generally go out with my housemates and end up making an absolute disgrace of myself, making it home somehow (without companionship) and falling asleep in every part of the house other than my bed. So on this night out I'll usually get absolutely bungalowed about an hour into the night then live off this feeling for most of the night, occasionally seeing off drinks because if I try and walk with them I end up wasting money on the drinks I've just bought that I spill down my front. As many people experience when intoxicated, I get quite confident/cocky when I drink. Now I wouldn't class myself as the best looking guy in the world however this definitely changes once I've had a few double vodka and cokes. The most innocent of glances from something with a pulse (any girl) means that they've noticed my perfectly sculpted hair (which by this point looks more like something from an 80s boyband video), I'm dressed unbelievably well, I can dance like a cross between Billy Elliot and Michael Jackson (unusual), and I'm possibly the most stunning human being they've ever seen. There wouldn't normally be a problem with this however the girls are often incredibly good looking and massively out of my league (don't try this, "there's no such thing as out of your league", because there is." I've often noticed the wandering eyes of a certain Miss Domonique Latham and decided we're in love and she wants my babies (other way around?). However generally I'll decide that every 9 out of 10 girl wants me, and I will often attempt to buy drinks for these people, then once they slap me/turn me down I convince myself it's because they've either got a boyfriend or are in some way visually impaired. I'll then wake up in the morning and wonder just why I bothered trying to tell the Cheryl Cole lookalike that I'm an Astronaut (not a cheryl cole lookalike but a true story), and have saved at least 8 children from a burning building in the past week. I'm honestly sure that one day it'll pay off and I'll take some model home, only to find out she only wants me for my unbelievable body, and not just my personality and facial features, Absolute Tragedy.
Sitting on the sofa.
No comments:
Post a Comment