Bubbles, Brain Fog & Bad Bougie Food

Dear Internet.

I tried. I tried. I really did try. To do what, you sexy AI bots may ask?

To apply make up and make myself photogenically presentable. To not let my inner sassy bitch destroy everything in sight when I couldn’t find the remote control for the actual camera, and give up to passively watch some YouTube instead (something the outer sassy bitch would do though).

So in the end, I grabbed my phone and ended up with blurry snaps capturing my snappy mood.

But hey, I live in my bubble and nobody but Myself can burst it !

As Rosa Luxembourg said : those who do not move, do not notice their chains.

So I made the conscious effort to break free of the mental chains of my misplaced perfectionism. Potato quality photos? Who cares, I’ll do better next time. Emo guitar practice? Fine, I’ll do better tomorrow.

The important thing being that I did do something. And managed to fit in my asos belt that I hadn’t been able to close for ages! *Twirls the bingo wings*

And I also had confirmation that all that is shiny is not always savoury… It can be bittersweet. Indeed, my friend took me to the Ivy for afternoon tea as she had a gift voucher to use ( I’m super grateful that she decided to share this with me, don’t get me wrong), however it was quite disappointing considering what this place sets itself out to be.

All of the food tasted exactly like what you’d get in your local Tesco Express: extremely sugary yet flavourless items. It was actually shocking how basic it all tasted. More basic than a Blink182 lyric.

The plate with the scones is for two people and they had a single strawberry cut in four pieces to share. Darling, I know that the economy is fucked up right now but this is beyond ridiculously cheap, this is Margaret Thatcher levels of cheap.

My Nescafé dolce gusto machine produces better coffee than this. This is not endorsed by George Clooney.

This red velvet cupcake gave me poison ivy rather than luxury ivy.

Still, it was very nice catching up in a different place. And we did not end up with digestive nightmares at London Bridge’s toilets (much feared for a while!).

We ended up going for a digestive stroll up on Tower Bridge and froze our sugared up asses up there. Nice dessert, right?

With Love and Glucose,


Scream for me!