Girl's Night Out

Allow me to paint a picture of my Tuesday night for you...

Warning: This may get colourful - not advised for photo-sensitive viewers.

 

We had suuuuuchhhh a blast last night. It started as innocent as a Tuesday could be.... me depleting a bottle of red wine to myself.

 

My girlfriends showed up after work and we started to crunk it up in the bar. It was kind of a 'welcome-to-the-family' for Juliet and Renee, a 'happy-birthday-bitch' to Chanel and a 'see-you-later' for yours truly!

Times are a’changin at the spa… with new ladies joining our crew, some aging (next year I’ll need to buy Chanel either a new liver or a leopard print lined coffin..) and some (ME!) off to backpack Europe and head off to London! Whoever has allowed me to be let loose around the globe doesn’t know what they bargained for  . . . watch out world! Here I come!

We found a fan.. (no, sadly not a flattering 'Can I have your autograph!' fan... but the actual scary looking machine fan that I keep having nightmares about,) and Renee became a Marilyn Monroe impersonator for a few amusing minutes.

And then, inevitably, we joined in.

Ok enough of that...

As many of you know, I don't drink tequila. I've never been able to stomach the stuff.

The below was purely a poser moment - lame.
 

I stuck to 'Pancakes' all night.
Best damn shooter I have ever knocked back.

This was not as hilarious as it looks. Greasy, salt seasoned chips in my ears. Classy.

 

But hey... it could have been worse!?

 

Moving on!

 

 

 

 

 

To anyone I ran into last night: The wine made me do it.

On that note, I'd like to take this opportunity to apologise for my Ghetto dance moves. I'll let you all use your imaginations on that one.
I can tell you this though... whatever you're thinking, it's worse.