Where ever I go, strangers seem to want to talk to me. I don’t get it. People on the train seem to just want to chat to me for my entire journey ( mostly old ladies though), or insane taxi drivers, who end up describing the consistency of their dogs poo to me. Sandy, apparently. I’m actually on first name terms with homeless people in the west end of Glasgow.
Is it something I’m doing?! I cannot work out what it is about me that attracts maniacs to me.
Some guy came into my work a few months ago and asked my friend and I to be on this tv show. We agreed, and the episode was finally played on British tv!
While walking by the restaurant next to the bar I work in, the wind blew my top right up. Thank you Hurricane Bawbag.
I recently met the singer of this band, which I was really excited about since I’ve been listening to them for years. As we’re both Scottish, we were incredibly drunk, so I did not manage to act cool about it. Instead I just told him I’m in love with him. Oh dear.
