On Saturday I went to Brighton for Vicky‘s birthday. When I arrived at her flat, she had a full birthday tea laid out with all kinds of treats and drinks, and a red velvet cake that looked like a giant cupcake. Everyone should do that for their birthday, it was so much fun.
If you put a jelly shot in a glass of Southern Comfort & Lemonade, it looks like an egg yolk.
The bakery said the cake would serve 24 people. We didn’t believe them, but when you cut into it, it’s suddenly huge inside. Vicky’ll probably be eating cake for breakfast, lunch and dinner for the next week.
Mmm, delicious cake.
Some party bag stuff. The skeleton sweets tasted exactly how you imagine bleach would, I made everyone I saw that evening try one.
Everyone had to have a sit down, too much cake and chocolate and sugary booze.
Then we went to the pub, where some of Vicky’s boyfriend Jack’s family joined us. More people should bring cake stands to pubs.
Amy & James joined us. Funtimes had by all.
I somehow ended up with a bubblegum scented pencil. No, a smencil. Excellent word.
And a glittery transfer tattoo. It was surprisingly hard to get off the next day.
I was not impressed by this ad on the beermat. I’m probably going to complain to William Hill when I get round to it.
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