bitchout

We woke up at 2PM, and the day went as follows:

barfbarfbarf, water, barf barf, sandwich, baaaaarf, diet coke, barf, water, barf.

Somebody didn't stop hurling for six hours straight. I left the hotel at one point to get a (really good) sandwich, but she booted that too.

Something broke deep inside her that day, and I can't really say it was just her liver. She emerged on the other side with a sore butthole and an appreciation for her mortali
ty. She hung up the I-am-immortal personality of Bracey Turk and admitted total defeat. It was a sad day.

At some point I remembered that we had made "plans" with the bathroom friends from the club, but the chances of that happening were less than 0, and we were pretty sure they were just looking for coke anyway.

Somewhere around 8, we decided that Tracey should eventually try to keep some food down, so we began walking around looking for pasta. This was not an easy thing to do, however, because if we stood at the door of a restaurant other people would be seated and we would be ignored. If we tried to just sit down, the would tell us that they either weren't taking more seating (or at least that's what I interpreted the hand waving as) or that they weren't serving food.

I apparently adopted a really bitchy look on my face at one point as I was storming through the center of the cathedral square after being turned away from, like, the 5th restaurant, and some random guy jumped at me and yelled "BAH". I looked at him and hissed - spittle flying and everything. We stood back and gave eachother nods and I carried on.

We walked up to an overpriced restaurant next to the cathedral and I begged the guy to put us somewhere, anywhere, just give us food. He sat us, and we finally got our (mediocre) pastas while Tracey begged her stomach to "please just let me keep the pasta. Please, tummy. Please?"

It did, and after stealing some toilet paper, we went back to the hotel. We were supposed to pick up Angie from the airport at, like, 8AM, but I set the alarm for 8 and told Tracey that "the bitch can wait."

Tracey tried to convince me to set the alarm for 7:15 because your first international travel is terrifying, and we compromised at 7:30.

Then we stayed up until 5AM watching youtube videos and dicking around on the balcony. Right around when the youtube searches became just "fucked up shit" and watching cats crap in toilets, we went to sleep.

For the record, these were the winners:
Leviosaaaa

I believe I can fly sloth