Friday The 13th: The New Blood(y Mad!)

Holy fok, mother of Jacobus, I am a COMPLETE f*cking tosser.
We all know it takes a special kind of stupid to fly British Airways rather than Virgin or Emirates or hell, even United 93. But how many of you can stand proud and say, you know what, I have stared death in the eye and laughed til i thought my sides would split right open in the middle of the tarmac? How many of you have actually a) opted to fly BA and b) chosen to do it on FRIDAY THE F*CKING 13TH OH MY GOD AM I BLOODY MAD???

Whilst I've been all sunshine-and-ponies about heading home, 2 weeks, rah-rah beach, Wedding Of The Century, raunchy unladylike behaviour and then a safe return to captivate you with antics beyond Granny Wrangling, I feel it is my duty to warn you that given some of my grave mistakes of late regarding choice of carrier and flight dates, maybe its best to not hold out such high hopes. I don't expect vigils and chanting. Just remember me. In your prayers. Tonight, when you snuggle down all alone because you didn't score, between trying to see the 'offensive' in "nice shoes, wanna pomp?", and applying ice to the welt on the side of your now puce little face, pray for me. Your joint prayers and my total inebriation should help see me through the night.

If you're in Cape Town, look for the girl in the red polka-dot knickers, face down in a puddle of champagne and be sure to say hi. If she turns around and starts speaking Japanese you'll know you probably got the wrong chick. But you'll feel good for trying.

Ok-bye.