tisdag, december 11, 2007

The Sloanie Diaries

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I wake up at 2:54 p.m. everyday in the city of London. My first thoughts waking up; "should I be bold and wear a pink tie with my black button up tonight, or shall I stick to the safety of a white and black get-up?'" I have heaps of time to ponder the perfect outfit for this evening. Since it is a Friday, I have to amp my game up if I want to find myself any fit girl to round up.
It's best for me to keep a light diet being that if I want to have a fit girl, I must be a fit lad! I tend to get a Venti Cappuccino during the week since it gives me a boost for the day and lacks calories, but since Friday was a complete letdown in showing how studly I am, I choose to order a Grande lite vanilla-chocolate, triple-shot, two pumps of hazelnut Frappuccino with whip and chocolate chips. It's Saturday and I am treating myself. I sit at Starbucks for approximately one hour as it is like the afternoon version of a nightclub: you see girls fitter than Posh Spice over here. It is a bit more challenging to work my game since many girls at Starbucks enjoy reading and flaunting their intelligence. Rubbish.
After I listen to a girl show her concern about a some obscure homeless man named Darfur, I measle my way out of the caffe and go straight to the gym. The gym is excellent fun as I am proned to being well superior to those poxy corporates. I lift about 90 Kilo now, I dare you Americans to convert that. After my lifts, I do me abs- my space abs that is, since they are out of this world. I do have a 6-pack, I don't need an 8-pack because I want to be bloody attractive, not a bloody joke!
By now it is 7p.m. I spent my past three-hours in the gym...extradordinary! So now it is time for me to get ready and call my mates- one being a PR. For the past four hours I have fretted about my evening attire. So here is my prerogative: white suit with a pink tie. Yes, I know, I will be the man of the hour with this innovative fashion. My trousers are fitted to the T, but not so fitted that I look like a raging queen. My button up I chose to be black and silk and finally the pink tie is quite bright, as if it belongs to M.I.A. I met her once, quite a little interesting broad. I like her music, but the bundles of issues she ranted about bored me. I believe it was of Sri Lanka, something about how it is a bamboo growing extinct due to the polar bears eating them. Rubbish, all rubbish. Anyways, I have accomplished the impossible: I will look more glamorous than any woman at the club tonight.
I call up all my mates and ask where we shall start our night. My best mate Ivan wants to meet up at my loft. I am more than happy to do that as it is the coolest pad out of all of my friends. Ivan is also the PR, so he plans where dinner will be, which is at 10:30 p.m., and which club is the most raging and appropriate for us to be at tonight. So us guys start off at my loft. We watch a few roundups of football (Manchest United, thank you very much) and drink some Cosmos. We leave in Ivan's two different cars being that there are six of us altogether. I drive in Ivan's PT Cruiser.
Plenty o' times my friends and I have been questioned about our lack of career. First, my dears, I have a career and that is being a socialite. Readers look for socialites in every Dazed and Confused and OK! Magazine issue. They do not want to read about the news of world starvation, they want to hear about pleasant things like who the hottest lad from Pacha London Club. Yes, I hold a very heavy duty in my field of work. Also, I have a past of working regidly. I helped out at my father's corporation starting at a young age as well as attend school. Daddy is very, very successful and bloody fucking rich! Daddy even sent me away to boarding school in Switzerland to prep me for taking over his enterprises when his body fails him. I never even dropped out of school! My friends have fathers just like mine and bear the same responsibility of myself. So all of you haters best to back of you see!
Dinner at Cuckoo Night Club, the same place whee I will get my heat on. I know, I know, do not dance where you eat right?! Well, tonight we are feeling a bit boho. Nothing wrong with that my dears. I order a small pasta as I do not want to add on the pounds as I had a hefty breakfast. It is already a bit crowded when we get there, so there is no worries about looking like the tourist-ridden occupiers for the night. Following dinner I go straight to vodka shots. I drink vodka first because it is very low in calories.
Now that my intoxication has taken place, I go straight for the ladies. I loosen my pink tie as it is always a bit Bond-like to look scruffy. I'm wearing my Hugo, Boss that is. No worries. I go up to the first girl and ask if I can buy her a drink, she rolls her eyes and walks away. I see that she is a slut. A twat at that too. So I decide to get along and jump on the seats and start dancing to the beat. I look mad cool up there and I am the first to make a conspicous dance appearance. I am wicked. My friends are getting to be envious I see, and James, one of my blokes, jumps on the booth seat with me. Prodigy is playing- excellent fun.
Then, I see it, the man with a white suit and a pink tie. Almost identical, besides the fact that it looks bloody awful on him and his fabric is fucking velvet! That is it. My mates and I must leave now. Cuckoo is a bit too much on mute anyhow. Ciao, twats.
Off to Groucho in SoHo. By then, Groucho is just raging! It is brilliant. This time I have a Screwdriver, it sets my mood right. And the dancing is back on. If a girl shrugs me off, onto the next one. I got, like, four or five numbers! But, my goal is to bring one fit girl home of course. Three girls run up to me and take a picture of me. Paparrazi. Typical...I am growing used to it of course. I make an attempt to call them back, maybe make one of their dreams come true. But, they run off, obviously done with their night's job since they have my photo now. Bedtime for the girls.
And bedtime for me. You see, I need to watch myself. I need to get the right fit girl, not the cockroach fit girl. So I dance some more. We have girls all around us, one of them will drink enough and eventually she will be the lucky one!

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