Slash

I am a pretty demure ladylike girl, really. I wear lipstick, like Beth Orton and can actually sometimes be "seen" sporting lace. But when a girl's gotta go, a girl's gotta go, ya know?

After 6 beers and a long walk with no available toilet in site, you generally take what you can get. Like this one time when I'd drunk a whole bunch of sour skittle vodka cocktails, and a whole lot of Jager and Mountain Dew, and I'd gone to my friend Joshy's house. He wasn't home and for some reason it didn't strike me to actually utilise the facilities there, which his housemate more than would have allowed. Instead I left and continued on my merry way. 

Disaster. I was struck down with the need to piss so bad it actually hurt. Luckily I was right near mine and Cameron Stack and Nina's old house on Cowle Street, so I just ambled up my driveway, greeted by the shopping trolleys, sofas and junk we'd left in the backyard, while the new tenants played Vampire Weekend at extreme volume in the living room. They didn't see me, and I didn't see them, but I really hope they were greeted with a giant puddle or a sense that something just wasn't, quite, right, when they went to hang out the washing the next day. I feel it really completed the entire tenancy, ya know?

P.S. New tenants, sorry we cleaned out the secret room before you moved in.