The next week was possibly a little better. I don’t really remember a lot.. but I know that there was a little less surf and more mess. I threw a sick party last Saturday, only about 25 friends came cause the place was my mum’s atelier, quite a mission to find, but still all-time. We finally found a fun club afterwards so I was stoked. It’s fucked cause nearly every night I went out with my loose mates till around 4am and woke up with Ian calling at 7am to surf, just getting home at 4pm and having to head to the dentist. Before going out again straight from there.

I still ensured not to miss out on anything, since I would have to pull out my wisdom cunts today, buying me time to rest…