Shock!! My cross-eyed tram amour is flirting with Another Woman! In plain view! Wait until shortarse girlfriend gets wind of this… She is small but well built, wears a lot of black mascara -could definitely pack a good punch. If I wasn’t so tired I’d punch him myself, but mainly for the look on his stupid face. (Unsure why I have taken so violently against this poor divil…)
Part of the aforementioned tiredness arose from the wine-tasting event yesterday evening. It wasn’t so much the wine that exhausted me -although said wines were more than worth a mention -amazing. It was more the enduring presence of a member of the aristocracy (AKA Class C1), who was flashing her French around like it was a Series 6 BMW. She was very friendly in fairness, but she peer-pressured me into eating oysters, for which I may never forgive her. I tried to keep reminding myself that she has a degree in French and is a professional interpreter, but despondency soon set in. Additionally, my brain became so addled from the dangerous mixture of Frenglish, wine and inadequacy, that all language became lost to me. By the time I met my Hungarian friend afterwards, all words were gone, in all languages, and I was left with merely nameless nebulous concepts, and no means of communicating them. I explained to her that the Aristocrat was a “translationist” and I forgot the word for a table. Things are getting serious..
In other news, Acceptance!! Following yesterday’s presentation, it seems the Queens of Class B2.5 have decided I am not completely sub-human and may be worthy of conversation. However, when they discovered that we don’t have a royal family in Ireland, they quickly lost interest. Highly enthusiastic they were, not even about the current royals, but the “plus âges”-seemingly they have a big thing for the extravagant jewellery of the ancient British monarchy. Can’t help you there Chenguang, sorry! Segregation endures..