![]() Dear my loyal 5 readers, I am currently sitting in Istanbul Ataturk airport awaiting my connecting flight to Valencia. Im bored and I have my laptop, so the only thing I can think of doing to keep me remotely awake is to blog. And before you say it, I know, it has been a long assed time, but that is about to change. However, back to the matter at hand: The way I look is totally disheveled, the way I feel is total shit and to top it off, I have not seen the dog since they took him away from me at Dalaman. Did I not mention that Im taking my dog with me on a 2 month trip to get the hell outta Turkey for a while? Sorry, that will be my tiredness taking a hold. Tiredness and hunger. Dont get me wrong, I could order food if I so wished, but my wallet does not so wish when a croissant is priced at 25tl in the cafe I am parked in right now. I could move, but I aint going too. After all, this 'sports bar' has given me a comfortable seat, free wi-fi, a diet coke priced at 10tl and some air con too, so why pick this sorry state of fabulousness off the seat to another bar that wont appreciate why I look like total shit. Why do I look like total shit? That is a very good question as when I boarded the plane in Dalaman I look alright ffs. Lets explore this shall we... My hair flapping about all over when it is supposed to be tied back I can kind of explain as I fell asleep on the flight from Dalaman, but why I have mascara all over my face is a different story, especially as I didnt put any on in the first place. I seem to have squashed one feathered earning into total non recognition, however the other one seems to look ok, so we shall keep them on to distract from the huge spot that has appeared right in the middle of my fod. And oh what a beauty it is to! Its painful so that will be a squirt-er for sure. Dear god, can I actually manage to look any frikkin worse? I have to admit, I cried a bit when they took Guc away from me earlier. He had been ever so well behaved whilst in his dog box. He ripped up and tore to pieces all the bloody pissy pads I bought him and cello-taped nicely in his box. His friend Alf was getting a chomping on last time I looked and poor Alf's innards were starting to hang out at last glance. I do wonder if Alf will arrive at Valencia at all... Now its not Guc's fault that he was behaving like a total dick of a dog. Nope, that is my fault entirely. I wasnt allowed to give the greedy sod any food for 12 hours before leaving the house, and for a god dam pig like Guc, that was a fate worse than death let me tell you... When I took him out of the dog box in Dalaman to stretch his little legs, instead of making the most of it, I saw him hovering up a hot dog that was on the floor all dirty and minging. Back in the bloody dog box he went as he clearly couldnt be trusted to play nice. So when I say I cried a bit, just to clarify, these were tears of joy as someone else was going to have the pleasure of stopping the howling, scratching and general naughtiness of the Guc for the rest of the journey. I may have even let out a rip roaring laugh as the guy tootled off with Guc getting pulled like the little prince he is. Im not a usual tipper, but this may in fact call for one big one... Ciao for now as its time to find the next fl xoxo
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