I do...I do I do I do I do I do

Yo bitches. Slack mole here ( :P to you Desci). A litany of excuses, of course; I have been job interviewing, working, kickboxing, working, watching TV in bed, and did I mention working? Fucking end of financial year.

So, anyway, if it was today without the circumstances of approximately one and and a half years ago, I wouldn't be at work. In fact, I probably wouldn't even be blogging. Because tomorrow, would just about be one of the biggest days of my life.

I'd be getting about wearing something like this:


Rocking around in something like this:


Entertaining here family, friends and obligatory guests here:


Consumating the union in something like this:


And then finally hiding myself (and the hubby) away somewhere like this:



That is correct. Martie would have been getting married. To the drug addict Ex Fucker. Good decision much?

Come tomorrow night, there could be tears, there could be celebrations, there could also be strawberry champagne and vomit. However, if I get the job I've been interviewing for, it will definitely count as a party, and to signal the next chapter of my life.

Do you think it would be too perverse to have dinner at the Portsea Hotel?

BAHAHAHAHAHA! Fuck no. I'm going to be enjoying (completely drug free) fucking awesome ice-cream instead.

And probably lots of strawberry champagne (fuck off, it was free).

So have yourselves a merry little weekend, wedded or not.