The crazy bag lady or was it the drunken skunk?

Fuck. Me.

I was the crazy bag lady who was as pissed as a fucking bergie on Cape Town's streets last Friday. Drunk as a fucking skunk I was. Unable to remember where the hell we'd parked my car (or my bloody mind for that matter). The real clincher though, was when I walked around the Engen garage up the road from Crombie's place talking to myself...

Wait, let me elaborate! Firstly, I was under the influence of copious amounts of Olmeca, Jose and Sauvignon Blanc. Secondly, at 2am you're fucking hungry - especially when you haven't eaten the whole day. Solution? Stop off at your friendly Engen kitchen and grab some chow. Simple enough. Well not really. Not really because I was convinced Crombie was with me when in actual fact she was slumped over rat-faced in my car. This meant that I ambled around the Engen shop asking "Crombie" what exactly "she" wanted to eat, totally unaware that I was in fact talking to myself...

Since I believe that everything in life happens for a reason, Crombie and I desperately tried to figure out the reason for my crazy bag lady moment... The only we could come up with was to entertain the Engen staff. Nice!