Karma

Allora, yes, Monday night was epic.
I was around at Austrian Goth's flat, getting ready to go out, when I got a facebook message from G-the-M:

"I am out and proud. Sorry girl, I am just drunk at home being honest about my sexuality for once"

My first though was something like what the frigging fuck?
I didn't gratify it with any kind of answer. If it was a joke, then it was NOT funny (but makes the probable drama of this coming Saturday's party less erm, dramatic), if it was not a joke, then, what can I say?
I just know for a fact that at least he's not as gay as my housemate Mike for example, who is erm, unable to lift it with girls. This didn't seem to be a problem with G-the-M.

Sure, a few days later I am now able to look at it in a more rational way, but truth to be told, I became nuts the moment I got the message, and dragged Austrian Goth out immediately in order to get truly and wonderfully plastered.

Of course, three beers and a shot of sambuca in, as I was cursing out loud in every possible language my eternal lack of luck, an Italian pidgeon decided it was the appropriate moment to take a shit. All over me.

Now, try to go and wash your hair in the disgusting toilet sink of a dodgy Italian bar. So much fun.
After such an experience, I could only go back to the bar and tell my life story to the cute bartender who from then on kept the -free- drinks coming.

I'm not sure what happened next. I vaguely recall smoking pot with Austrian Goth and Cute Bartender after he finished his shift. Then?
I'm not sure. I must have walked home somehow.
One thing is sure, both Austrian Goth and I were still pissed in class on Tuesday morning. Mamma Mia!

There's only one conclusion to that story; I must have been very mean to pidgeons in a past life.