walking rek

When a guy you’ve only been seeing for a few weeks stays in your bed after you’ve left to go to work.

When a guy sweats out his comedown in your bed and doesnt strip the sheets.

When a guy sends you a text saying that you have to change the sheets when you get home.

When you get home and find that a guy has left your room in a state of disarray with his clothes strewn all around and the bed smelling like a toxic gymnasium.
When a guy turns on the tears when you talk about what happened here.

When a guy calls you mean for having standards of personal hygiene and respect.

Just.

Plain.

Gross.

World Youth Day has been and gone, thank fuck. For one endless week Sydney was awash with hordes of flag bearing pilgrims all wearing the same silly backpack and large ID tag around their neck. They tended to move in large packs and bellow football chants which got old quickly. Pilgrims were privvy to free public transport and food whilst the rest of Sydney couldnt get to work or go about their business in peace. We endured this inconveneience by sharing tales of how thousands of cashed up Catholics were shacked up in school halls and freezing on ovals (some even got frost bite!), sleeping on bits of cardboard and getting as much nookie as possible.

Dazzlebatz and I tried to have a beer and pub meal at the Edinburugh Castle during the plague but we were descended upon by 100 backpacks who swarmed in and plonked them selves down at our booth without asking. After giving them a loud serve of truth and justice we moved to another table. They sent over the flag bearer who offered to buy us a drink by way of apology. Whatever. I thought they were supposed to be pilgrims with no money to buy bus tickets and here they were hitting the turps like it was New Years Eve. They even had the audacity to ask the wait staff if they could get a discount on their $8 meals!