uhh. zog.

Last night, I went to a housewarming party, met some people, made them think I was cute for trying to speak Danish, had a good time. Also, I drank some lovely red wine - you know, the kind that makes you feel warm-hearted and expressive and sociable, and tricks you into thinking that all the random crap you say when you’re drunk is actually full of wit and scandalously clever subtext. I’m sober now, but that feeling of “of course everyone else will understand the disjointed inside jokes I make to myself!” is still with me. God help us all.
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