They only want you when you’re 17

When you’re 21, you’re no fun.

Found this picture lying around at the parental in-laws. I was 22, in fairness – but then those song lyrics wouldn’t work.

Oh, to be 22, possessing Photoshop skills… They were simpler times.

Actually, there’s no way I wish them back. I was pretty insecure and I probably hadn’t eaten for 5 days. So I was digitally mysterious –  and really fucking hungry.

* * * * *

It’s Christmas Eve. I’ve made it back to Essex. I stood up on the train the whole way last night because there were no seats. And I’m sick again for the second time in as many weeks. Also, I forgot about the coffee situation in Essex – that is to say, it doesn’t exist. How have I managed this oversight?

Aside from figuring out the caffeination situation, I have to wrap some presents. I hate wrapping presents.

Joyeux noël, bitches.

Peace out, good will toward men. And women.

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One comment

  1. Betsy · December 24, 2011

    You look exactly like my first Barbie doll from the early 60s!

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