Both LouLou and Anthony bailed. LouLou, at least, messaged to say she couldn’t come, Anthony, nothing. Nelson Mandela died, so I just assumed Anthony was deep in morning over the great father’s demise. Still, LouLou only responded to my where-are-you-text. I’m guessing if she hadn’t heard from me, she wouldn’t have messaged. You know, you just know sometimes.
Somehow, I’d allowed myself to think about smoking this evening. And when I said that I wanted some, Sam simply said go call Guido. Guido messaged back in minutes, he was just down the road, come down and see me, which I did. I had it in my hands only an hour after I first truly thought about it.
Sam and I ate leftover noodles.
I spent the rest of the weekend stoned off my bonce.
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