My Own Summer...

If "The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men, gang aft agley" then my summer was ridiculously and meticulously planned out ... and at some point went awry.

The main problem being that planning to do a million things when not having enough money to do them doesn't exactly work out as well as it should.

Being free and single living in North Wales in a place called Mold isn't exactly an episode of Sex and the City. Sex in a very small town where you've already had sex with quite a few members of the local rugby team and now they all hate you might be more apt ... therefore meeting new people and pulling lots of hot young men might have been a bit of a far out plan for my own summer.

Despite knowing the fact that 'booty' was very few and far between I did manage to have a ridiculously fabulous summer, thanks namely to Leah B/J. Don't imagine now that I was giving Jizzle Bizzles all over the show to some miscreant named Leah, no, in fact I know two Leahs ... one by the name of B, one by the name of J.

So in an utterly fannytastic fashion we three started the summer by going to Wakestock and sharing a tent. However in the typical trampy way that you would come to expect from three girls who live in and around the Flintshire area we were never all in it at the same time. Mostly due to LB who ruined any chance of her own happiness by cunting about with a guy who pisses in his own face ... and shits the bed after too much bow. LJ, who is usually notorious for cunting about with rugby boys, was seen messing around with an Irish ‘round ball’ player. She also managed to ruin a tent romance between the infamously slutty brother of LB’s beau and a much younger lady who works in Y Pentan. Oh dear.

I on the other hand managed to do further damage to my reputation by continuously asking a boy for sex (some might call it begging, I wouldn’t go that far) who happened to be the best friend of a boy I used to have casual sex with. In doing so ruining any chance of future happiness in Mold, oh well I never really wanted to live there anyway!

The rest of the summer continued in much the same drunken sort of way - a gin, vodka, sangsom blur.

Trips to the beach. Pulling Policemen. Broken noses. Underage boys. 18 year old girls. Failed BBQs. Circus disappointment. Rosies. Mitch James. Misplaced dignity.

All this and more interrupted by bumbling through the odd Indian wedding and a few New Look sales.

To finish off this summer of fun was the obligatory night out in spoons … the highlights of this evening were telling Harvey (a boy that managed to ruin my house on two separate house party occasions) that I was going to punch him really hard in the middle of the face if he ever set foot in my house again. Topped off with seeing the boy who I used to have casual sex with and still have ridiculously mixed feelings for, in the sweet embrace of Ali D; a girl who is a three year younger, much better version of myself … and who he is in fact shagging this summer.

Uh oh … time to go back to Paris me thinks!