... Don't ever spend your rent money on drink, or clothes, or drink, or general faffing about. Your parents will find out, and despise you. I found that out the hard way, and let me tell you, it was hard. I'm now stuck to the confines of my mother's little shop of horrors for the next 6 months until I can escape to Dublin again. I didn't overspend that much, but I'm still up to my oxters in shit, and the worst thing is, it wasn't even worth it. I mean, I definitely could have lived without Vogue, or that pitcher of Fosters, or that Chinese. That's the thing, I can't even really remember what I spent the money on, which is another reason why I'm in so much trouble. They keep asking me what I actually spent my money on, and all I can do is shrug my shoulders and say 'ehh dunno really'. I think that they think I'm on drugs.
Oh well, a lesson well learned.
In other news, my dad asked me if I was pregnant today. I think he was calling me fat. I'm not by the way. Pregnant that is.
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