It is half past four. In the morning. You read me correct, no correction needs to be implied. I don't jiggle my butt as much as I did when I was a hot (as if), nocturnal cooky creature many yonks back. I used to hit every club, I used to say hi to men I'd love to drive back, I used to spew sweet words weaved with my sweet fragrance to lure men back home.

Well, time passes that fast and it is like yesterday that I walked down the street eyeing gorgeous strappy lads in their fanciest jeans and shirts, flock inside multimillion cars and drove away in the coldness of early morning. And it is like yesterday that the race between Trish and I on how many drinks we could get from different men in a night.

It was wild. And fun.

And I have to say the essence of that joy and the wildness is noncomparable. You know, like the famous saying "Good old days". This term does not fit my night tonight.

Bland. Boring. Plain normal. Infants.

Well, those things apparently sum up my experience. Please nerds and geeks, I need you to invent time machine ASAP!


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