An open letter to the passengers of the number 19 tram lucky enough to be travelling the morning after my big night,


First of all, I am now grossly aware that in my hungover/slightly drunken haze that while I honestly believed that wearing sunglasses would render me basically invisible, nothing can hide the stench of night being ridiculously irresponsible.

I would like to apologise to those of you seated within a 10 metre radius of me, I know I must have smelt like I bathed myself in the scent of Benson & Hedges smooths and brushed my teeth with a bottle of wine – sorry Ke$ha, Jack’s not my thing and it certainly doesn’t give you that lovely red wine tint. Unfortunately, when I left my home in a relatively sober state earlier the night before I hadn’t foreseen that I would end up sleeping on the floor of the unemployed musician I met at the pub. Sadly our friendship hasn’t quite progressed to the stage of sharing a toothbrush yet.


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