drunkeroooo

glug... went for a drinking bout last night.
Started at Fernando's, with a glass of red and a Super Bock (beer).
Moved onto Zorba, where I hooked up with Julie and we talked about boys. Drank a Leffe.
Moved onto the Cherie Bar and 3 beers... (whatever was yellow, fizzy and coming out of the tap)
And then, just to make my night perfect, I had 2 JBs at the end. I'm a silly goose, and I couldn't walk straight.

Today I feel like spongehead.

Since my phone is selling on ebay for a very attractive price, I've been looking at doing two things:
1. buying a ticket on a freighter boat for a transatlantic cruise back to France. That way I can bring more shit back and get all my Moby Dick fantasies fulfilled.
2. buying tickets to Roland Garros. I want to go on Sunday or Monday. And I want to see the two hot new tennis sensations of the moment: Rafael Nadal and Richard Gasquet. I suppose people will be cheering for hometown fave Gasquet, but me, between the two, there's no competition. I go for the fiery Nadal. Plus he has a cute little fighting ferret face... but now that I'm 30, start to feel guilty about perving on 18 year-olds.