Let this much be known: when drunk, I understand everything--or, at least, as of now (8 shot's worth in) I'm not actually drunk but just tipsy--yet I speak, incomprehensibly, in a British accent. I mean, I'm aware of it happening--that I'm speaking this way--but I can't seem to control it. Unusual, that.

Right now? Tired, everything's through a thick veil--there will be stories of tonight and I know it. I'm still saying "dahling" like some English diva with startling regularity. The cold feels subdued but still there--along with the 8 shots I took two cold medicine tablets--and I'm pretty sure heavy machinery is a NO GO situation.

I think sleeping for tonight should commence--and that a lot more booze needs to be consumed to get this 106 lb figure over the edge.

Night all. Sleepy, a bit blurred about the edges--but I'm still good.