2 days ago, I was sitting on my bed, having a discussion about “Long Term One Night Stands”.

You know the one, where you see a guy for a long period of time. He is not a friend with benefits, because you are not friends. You just hangout. You might go for a drink or dinner, but then you always end up back at his and end up gone in the morning. You just have this one night stand, over and over again.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m a big girl, I’m not going to have a break down. I make my own choices, but sometimes, you can like the guy a little bit more than you want to, he likes you but not as much as you like him and majority of the time you get into a LTONS agreement that was never discussed with you but you go along with it, because you gotsta get yours.

Confession; I was feeling sorry for myself (again), a little lost. Wondering if there was something in my wiring that made me a #Samantha and not a #Charlotte. I am clearly doing something wrong that makes me not GF material. I mean, when they can’t spare an evening during the week to see you/spend time with you, your personality clearly sucks right?

No Melania, you are just a perfect long term one night stand material. I suppose you got to be good at something right? 


My original post was going to disect my thought process about LTONS and how I was ALMOST done with that type of ish…but then a touch of drama occurred last night and right now I am annoyed.

I’m done being everyone’s favourite LTONS. I’m worth more, even if it takes me a while to convince myself

I’m over being the girl that doesn’t get given the time of day. It’s shit. I’m closing the door on being the girl that is annoyed yet still responds to the guy that takes DAYS to respond?

Goodbye to the girl that allows her ex boyfriend to be extremely selfish and continue to ruin her day almost 2 years later.

Tchau to Bumble, the new Tinder. Au revoir to the fuck boys and whether I end up as a Charlotte or Samantha, no one cares. I no longer give a fuck.

Let the road to discovery begin and let it start by consuming my 3rd Magnum for the night.




A quick one.. 1st July 2017

Last night:

3 shots and 3 doubles later, I’m on the Central Line with drunk people at 2:40am. I feel like I must be the only sober person on here but that can’t be right, especially when  I’m sitting here smiling like a Cheshire Cat thinking about my final destination. Definitely a mixture of alcohol and excitement! 

I start an internal dialogue; Sometimes you have to make sacrifices to get your end away. And by sacrifice, I mean travelling further than 30 minutes to get your leg over. 

Girls have needs. No slags or derogatory terms here. #Samantha

What got me here, in this state of intoxication, was meeting up with a friend and beelining to Freedom in Soho. 

Actually, we didn’t go straight there, we thought we’d check out “The Box”. Walked past the queue and darling, there was nothing about my outfit nor my state of mind that would even let me in. Every lady in heels, me in platform Supergas..I doubt that counts. Tight ass jeans vs. my Super comfy pants (easy for sliding off 😉). My make up wasn’t on fleek either and my hoops were big enough to have a chihuahua jump through!

So we decided to spend the night in a “gay” bar drinking and people watching. There was alcohol, a couple of stripper poles and  packed full of straight couples and beyond cringey Hen Dos.

I wish I could write more, but the smell of body odour on this 20+ degree train and the swish swish of the alcohol in my belly means I could definitely projectile vomit on this chick in her red dress. 

Note to all; It is important to wear clothing that allows you to breathe. Everyone will appreciate it. They may not thank you for it, but I can assure you it means they won’t dedicate any blog/Snapchat/instagram/gossip time dedicated to talking about you. 

^ So the above was me drunk at 2:30am and making my way to East London. 

The below is me having recovered from last night and having reflected on the last 48 hours. 

Today involved snuggles, an AddisonLee driver deciding to talk to me,  throwing up, sleeping and takeaways.

At what point do you stop being a #Samantha and get the opportunity to be a #Charlotte. How do I get my bald little Jewish man?

I end the evening on a Love Island high…and drafting my next post..

Random picture of me

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