Sleepover

I just woke up at Tamar’s and I want to murder someone. No preferable reason. I’ve probably created another form of the menstrual cycle, one that males can follow. I’m dizzy as-well.

I think I’ve annoyed S. yesterday, I’m not sure, I’m too embarrassed to talk to him now… Maybe later. I’m hungry as well.

I want a Super Duper Extra Meat Cypriot Sandwich. Cypriot Sandwiches are the best thing ever. I mean why haven’t they invented them yet in other Countries. The US preferably so that it goes international. If you think about it, Cyprus should have privileges over it’s sandwiches, maybe patent them or whatever they big companies do to their fancy products. And then wherever we go we can indulge in the mouthwatering – almost orgasmic – activity of cypriot -sandwich-eating. Nom Nom.

Playing around

Tamar is Israeli. Natty is Israeli. Noah is IsraeliAnd I am trying to understand Hebrew. I’m making progress really, I’ve learned Hatih (Which is what I am) Kuss (Which is what I do not need in this life) Ken (Tak Tak Tak!) Shalosh (Which a word I’ll need If I ever travel to Israel) and other pretty adjectives.

Tamarou, Naughty and Noah’s ark,

I’ll miss you guys, especially you Tamar, farewell (hopefully) …

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