Mexican Spooning

Just to paint a picture, I'm sitting really uncomfortably cross-legged, hunched over, my tummy hurts, my brain hurts, I'm having trouble typing, and I'm in the same clothes I was wearing last night. Ooh, and I just burped. Ha.

Yep, just been to Mexico.

Frick, I have the coolest friends. I'm having friend love pangs right now. We had buritos, tequila, sangria (Spanish, so it still counts as Mexican - just go with me) and nachos - enough for 60 people. There were only about 30, but overcatering is a strength of the whore house so we play it up. Whatever.

Too much to talk about it, my brain is exploding with thoughts - I will dot-point.
(side note, before I forget: I'm trying to use superhuman mind power to make 2day fm play that new rihanna and eminen song. if anyone is reading this right now and feeling particularly nice, please call up 2day fm and request that song for me. Chances are, I will be listening. Please? I will love you)

Ok, dot-pointing highlights...

Mexican spooning. Reminiscent of a curtains-drawn 2 hunge sesh circa 2007. It was boy girl boy girl, and I was nicely squeezed between Puss and Barls. I normally hate spooning, and even the idea of it. (Actually had a little shudder just then thinking about it.) Testament to my friendship love pangs that mexican spooning was such a highlight. At one stage though, Watty poured wine in my mouth and hair. That was a low point of mexican spooning. But at least the wine wasnt warm. And it wasnt goon.

Waking up. Woke up still spooning Puss. Can only assume I fell asleep and other spooning participants found their way to other beds, and maybe even changed out of their clothes. (Heroes.) Luckily, I opened my eyes when I woke up and realised it was Puss, not a boyfriend. Could have been very awkward if I'd gone in for the half-asleep kiss. Thank youuuuuu lady luck.

Conversation with Glove and Kibs approx 11pm. Would I change my name if I got married if a married American backstroker Lenny Krazleburg? Probably yes. Leesa Krazleburg has a good ring to it.

Conversation with Adriana Lima approx 1.30am. To go out of not to go out? Very much leaning towards going out, fearing shit-friend-status if we don't. Suddenly, like a dark, sequinned angel, Miranda Kerr reappears and tells us its freezing outside and she's not going out anymore. It is, after all, 1.30am. We all agree to stay in warm (ok, not that warm) house and keep drinking in my bed with a doona....spooning ensues.

Sugar craving arrives. Approx 12.30am. For savoury fiends there is enough mexicana yumminess to fill about 30 drunken stomachs (overcatering pays - yea it does), but for me - nothing. Finally, I find the last brownie. It is delicious. I am eating it all over again in my mind right now. I wish it wasn't the last one. It was delicious. Did I say that? The baker, Man Sam, tells me he made it mushy because Adriana likes it mushy. Dumb Sam - EVERYONE likes it mushy. Der.

(another side note: I am freezing, and I'm starting to feel worse. Frick)

Actually, that side note made me realise that I need some tea. Bye.

pic from customskullcaps.com