Been dealing with da huns problems since 445AD… Ur resident agony aunt & Hunnic Emperor lol! Don’t mess wit my girlos or I’ll wreck u like I wrecked da city of Aquileia . xoxo. Tweet me!
I’m in a hoop over this lad I used to be riding. I was completely over him when we ended it ‘cause we both wanted different things… and also he was a shcaldy dirtbird. But since he’s started getting with one of my best motts, I feel like I should be winning him back.
Was that chicken goujon roll he stole from Spar for me a sign that he wanted somethin’ more, or an extension of his shcaldiness? And should I start on my friend next time I’m locked??
I actually know exactly what ye mean. Same thing happened me in 433 I was scoring one of the troops one summer, we were mad up for it until I started getting stuck into one of the Burgundian rides instead. I was happy though cos the new fella looked like Gaz from Geordie Shore.
Then Aëtius started using the Hunnic troops as mercenaries against the Goths (ugh don’t even start me on the goths, they’ve ruined disco pants for everybody). When the lads buzzed over to the West Roman Empire for war and stuff I suddenly got mad jealous, even though I was getting the D from Burgundy Gaz.
Once he got back from mercenary bantz, I didn’t care again. Your lad sounds like a sweetheart for stealin’ that roll but he’s not worth decking your friend over. Unless she’s just a bitch anyway.
C’mere to me Hun,
I love alcohol, because I’m not an absolute spa. I always used to say if I had to marry anyone, it’d be buckfast. But recently every time I’ve gone out with the girlos I end up getting blackout hammered with either my own or someone else’s expelled bodily fluids all over my floral-print docs.
I wouldn’t even mind cos it kind of blends in to look like part of the pattern, but then after Arthur’s Day I woke up in a bin in Lithuania. Is there a way for me to drink myself out of the problem? And if so, should I get spirits or cans??
Getting trollied and waking up in bins is one of my main pursuits in life, right after suppressing nomadic peoples and getting my hair dip-dyed. But when drink starts compromising your shoes you know it’s time to stop. I used to live by the seanfhocail ‘Few naggins be grand’ until I drank myself into a coma and died from a nosebleed on my wedding night. Didn’t even get the ride first like.
Admitting ye need help is the hardest part. I fell into a masso binge after we failed to invade the Sassanid Empire, and I found the best thing for getting off the drink was yokes. Next time yer goin’ out, just keep a bag of pills handy and limit yourself to alcopops.
You’ll wake up in a lot less bins,
Stay glam hun!