I wanna scream!!!!!!!!!!!

AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRR

Man...
I wanna speak English! I wanna talk to people! WHAT IS WRONG WITH EVERYBODY?????
Saturday was the last time I went to that bloody Kitsch. No, Damian wasn't there, which helped a little, but that place isn't for me. It isn't!!!!

I started bailinho a little earlier so that I could listen to my Brit bands, because neither Junior nor Patricia like them. Well, they don't know the music and are not willing to make an effort to listen to them either. But ok, when Junior came we started listening to Electro, which was also good.
We drank and danced and drank and danced. I don't know, I wasn't in the mood and I knew I needed a lot of RedBulls to keep me going. Patricia is always the last one to start some party. For Christ's sake that girl has a real problem...
Well, we invited Pawel to joins us in our chill-in, but he said he would be waiting for us at Plastik, the new place they wanted to go. Invariably we got hammered. Double, triple hammered. But the problem was that Patricia'd never gotten as drunk as we usually do, but there's always a first time, right? Right. And last Saturday wasn't the best day for her to get drunk, believe me. I was in a terrible mood and on the verge of hitting somebody.
We went to Plastik and the place wasn't full, but I was willing to stay there for a while before going to Kitsch. As soon as we got there I started feeling sick. Puking sick. I went to the bar and asked where the bathroom was with the barf stuck in my throat. Had I said one more word I would've covered the bartender in RedBull and vodca and beer. I ran upstairs and cut the line and didn't care, people complained but I thought they would prefer waiting a little while instead of watching the scene right in front of them. I puked and felt better.
We met Pawel and he said he would go to Coccoon. Neither of us wanted to go there, but then they decided to go to Kitsch at that moment, and it wasn't even 0:30am. We'd never arrived there before 3am, never! But ok, we all took our things and went.
On our way there I was already sober, but they weren't. Patricia wouldn't shut up for a second, she simply wouldn't shup the fuck up and I decided not to say a word otherwise I would've killed her, I think. I don't know, when I'm drunk people around me usually are as well, so nobody cares, and seriously, I don't think I say that so much shit as she did. It was unbearable and they noticed. I just asked to be left alone for a while.

We entered Kitsch. It was full, fucking full, more than too full, not walkable. And they were all tourists that didn't give a damn. We left our coats and went to the bar, I bought a beer and they didn't. Music was crap. People were strange. I saw Bartek, he was the only one I knew there.
Junior decided to go to a gay place, don't know the name, so it was only Patricia and I, but by then she had already calmed down. We stayed at the bar and a Potuguese guy came to talk to us and introduced a friend of his, Joao. This Joao guy was pretty nice, but ugly. We started talking and I coudn't understand a word he was saying. He was amazed at how a Brazilian girl couldn't understand him, I would look at Patricia and she translated everything. He was loving all that and it was the only moment we had some fun. We talked about soapoperas, football, differences between the two countries. I taught him some Polish. I would use the gerund, of course, and we kept correcting each other. He said that in the sounth they use gerund.
I said: 'You guys from Lisbon should use the gerund as well'
'But we don't use it!'
'But gerund is gerund!'
'I don't like the gerund!!!'
It was unbeliveable. I was fucking with him and he was serious about all that. Patricia and I couldn't stop laughing.
Eventually they left and once again it was only the two of us. We tried to dance a little but it was impossible. She wanted to go home and I said we would go after my beer.
I went to the bathroom. The line was endless and the floor was filthy. I decided to "cut" the line and use the stalls near the cloakroom because there's always fewer people there. I was waiting and one guy started talking to me in Polish. I said I couldn't speak the language and we spoke English. His name was Michal and he said he worked in construction, but wether as an engineer or a bricklayer is the question. He was good-looking. They called my number and I went into the stall. It was disgusting. Somebody had left this huge turd there and the floor was flooded in piss. I lifted my pants to my knees and went for it. Awful. When I left he was still waiting.
I went: 'Hey, I'm with a friend at the bar having a beer, do you wanna join us?'
'Yes, I think I'm having one more beer'
'So see you there'
'Ok'
I'm still waiting for him to show up. I got pissed off. Hey, HE started talking to me, I was just being friendly, wasn't asking for marriage or anything, but once again got stood up.
I drank my beer, we went home and did a bailinho until 7am.
I'm starting to get a little fed up with everything...