so i dropped a bullet in his lap and said "the next ones coming a lot fucking faster"

if alcohol gives you confidence then last night i was the prince of fucking tequila town, and kings cross my castle.

i did a shoot for ben sherman yesterday which was.... long. i wasn't allowed to sit down or i'd "crease the clothes" after 6 hours of standing up i thought i was going to top myself.

it wouldn't have been too bad if i didn't try my hand at martial arts the night before (walked past russell crowes apartment but i didn't have a phone to throw at him).

So i talked to the pretty french girl who works down stairs, organised to go out for a drink, she came, i jumped off my balcony, she didnt see my heroic feat, i hurt my foot, i limped over to meet her french friends, they liked to part, we drank, we laughed, we smoked, we drank, i invited her to m place, she said she'd catch up. i went to freshen up in my bathroom, drank....and woke up 7hours later hugging the ceramic bowl with 3 messages and 2 missed calls... dam.

now i'm hung over wearing a singlet i cut out of a beatles t-shirt on my way to a bossini casting. safe to say i'm wasting my time cause i look like a waster.