Cheesy drunk

Hangover from hell. Or morelike, from the hood.
Surprised?
Am very impressed with self though, getting my somewhat intoxicated arse home and blogging. In the wee hours. Or past the wee hours. I recall hearing birds sing. It was not one of those bright, sunny summer mornings though, it was a more sheer kind of pearly grey ambient. Quite elegant in fact.
I passed my old school and where we went to the scouts. Passed the places where old classmates and friends lived. Many of them does not live here anymore. Literally. Knowwhattamsayin´?
Send someone (an ex) a cheesy text because shit reminded me of him. (That I do actually regret. Drunken minds don´t tend to do smart thinking.)

When I got to the place where we lived for years when I grew up I just had to go and check it out. And so I stood and watched the number 101 for ages. A window was open and somebody in there was snoaring very loud, loud enough for me to hear.

Got home to my parents. Fell asleep with clothes and make up on.
Brutta figura, I know, but hey, I´m not doing the Memory Lane-tripping often. In fact never.
Still love my friends though.