Fresher’s Flu, How I Loathe Thee by Monique

I’m currently jamming here, half watching a Lost, DVD (which I will discuss and probably berate a bit later) and contemplating the millions of foreign bacteria currently shoubzing it up in my body right now, happily creating phlegm, aches, pains and snot. Probably cracking up at my pathetic immune system and lazy ass white blood cells too.

I currently hold three people responsible for this, and every first year on campus are circumstantial contributors  too as far as I’m concerned. As Caitlin would say, “this petri dish of bacteria” that I call home, is slyly as filthy as it is shiny, sparkly and lovely.

Italian tosse medicine (cough medicine for all you no speak italianos out there) however, is the BUSINESS. Its fire in the lungs man, I love it. If it weren’t like taking some slow shot of rum I would drink it! These Vicks cough sweets I’m sucking on- oh yes they have upgraded from all that “vapour rubbing action” isn’t half bad either actually.

Another event of this week – Danielle’s (my housemate’s x-flat mate) birthday night out at the Ritz, run by Dirty Stop Out. The name alone let me know I wouldn’t be seeing my bed anytime soon (not till 4am in fact), which I’m generally never happy about, and I hate going out on Saturdays because I love going to church on Sunday. Sometimes it’s just too close for comfort, even when I make sure I behave myself. ANYWAY. It was actually kinda jokes for the short time we spent there (we arrived on BPT hence an early departure still resulted in a 4am return home). It was school themed, even though we didn’t get the memo. Most of the night was spent creasing after the clubland girls dancing around on the floor and on stage. They were so lost in the music, by the music, it was not serious. They were all gorgeous and that but just had some next moves. One girl must have had some Vybz Kartel inner soundtrack going on because she was winding her body up down and around. But the DJ was playing Mr Brightside, Teenage Dirtbag, Wake Me Up When September Ends and other pop rock tunes (yes, musically at some stages it was that deep. NOT IMPRESSED). The girls on stage were just dazed and confused. To be fair their focus was probably more on not falling out of their DIY school uniforms. But I noticed when the music switched from Ibiza to hip hop and R&B (FINALLY, even though it only lasted about 5mins) they couldn’t seem to match their dancing to the beat, like they were allergic to a decent bass line, and a backing track using actual instruments and not just some little techno keyboard. It was beyond funny.

On a final note, I went shopping. Again! I’m so weak man. I bought harem pants- black, classic and wearable with anything on sale for £8 however! Aaaaand I also bought a completely necessary black pair of wedge heeled wellies!  

Take that Manchester ha-ha. If you ever want to spot me I’ll be the one walking fearlessly in those gorgeous black wellies stomping through puddles like a badman! No lie I feel bulletproof in them willies. Its game over, the weather can’t touch me, I’m a BOSS!

X

On a side note, all jokes aside, my cheap harem pants were cheap in every sense. They ripped while I was at uni, not overly noticeable but still. I was obviously vex, however, I marched my behind home, got out my poundland sewing kit and stitched that badboy back up like what… LIKE A BOSS! Monique 1, High-street Fashion 0