After having said several times that I find clubbing mildly ridiculous. I went and did it again with the boys and an ex-girlfriend from many years ago. Nothing much to be said about the clubbing that would be remarkable.
My that ex-girlfriend, now that’s many stories. We had stories. She has stories. She’s still making stories. Her life is so colourful it defies telling. Art cannot imitate her life. And no, seriously, I am not gushing about her. I just like how colourful her stories are. Her social life is incomparable if you even attempted to try alongside yours truly’s.
I am leading you on. I have a headache the size of Jupiter. So I won’t be telling you what my ex-girlfriend’s love life is like, suffice to say, she’s got a more eventful one than mine.
On other matters, I’m getting that little tingling sensation in my fingers because I met someone I’ve met before but with whom I’ve lost touch for a bit. Not to say we said much besides hi and bye. But one of those people you barely know, but like to know a little more because you think you might just have a chance at liking her more. Know what I mean? Yes? Cool.