Rule #21

Hung out wit the guys yday nite. Went club hopping, had a few drinks, some laffs and managed to move a little.

Diva Rules for Clubbing #7:Divas neva buy or get their own drinks.

All the guys were falling over themselves, as usual, to get me drinks.
'What would you like, Trésor?' 'Some more red wine,Trésor?'

Diva Rules for Clubbing #6: Divas don't drink beer (crassy!), malt drinks (poison!), sugary alcoholic drinks- so-called chick drinks (now seriously, drinking sugary alcoholic drinks and beer increase your chances of 'catching' a yeast infection and Divas don't do thrush or any other stinky disease for that matter!) or energy drinks (Divas already got lots of energy, don't need extra. Anyway, don't do much at clubs that requires energy. Seriously.)
Divas drink only wine- preferably red wine. Divas especially do not do any of those funny watery sugary fruit drinks which are passed off as wine just because they come in a wine bottle. Give a Diva some good old French wine any day, any time (literally speaking!).

Diva Rules for Clubbing #9: Divas don't drink, they sip.
So even though I had a bottle of wine to myself and a million offers to get me another one, I barely finished a glass.

I didn't dance much.
Diva Rules for Clubbing #5: Divas don't dance, they move.

You know that girl in Cardinal Offishal's video ft. Akon, Dangeruos? That was me. Okay, that was not me but she looks just like me especially in that tight black dress. And the way she walked, now that's what's called moving. When Divas move, they step aside to let us thru!
I slided up and down the boyfriend's body once or twice and that was it. Most times, I just sat in my seat, sipping my wine and watching others get crazy on the dance floor.

There was this one girl that danced so hard her wig came off. Obviously, she's not a Diva.
I don't do wigs. They pose very high chances of bringing on an embarrassing situation; especially, if what's underneath it looks like something you would find on the head of a street person in the early stages of poor mental health (a mad person for short!).
I almost choked on my wine when the wig came off and the funniest thing was that it flew across the room and landed in some obscure spot under a table. By the time she got it back, it had been trampled on by many unknowing feet. And the stupid raz chick! First she pretended to laff it off and then she tried to put the scraggly looking thing back on her head!
I don't know which was worse- the thought of her putting the raggedy wig back on her head or of exposing us to her Willy-Willy hair-do for the rest of the night. I would have really loved for her to cover up the frightening-looking, nausea-inducing weave on her head but at the same time, any sensible person could see that the wig was gone. It wasn't even hot-looking to start with and after being trampled...
Lordy! Some girls will neva be Divas. (sigh!)

I got home at about 2 am and at around 5 am, I woke up wit the worst case of runny tummy eva. I almost died.
It must have been that rotten Nkwobi I took at that local waterside joint where we stopped off in the middle of club-hopping.
Warning to self: Never eat greasy-yellowy-gruely-meaty-savoury thingy that is reputed to contain goat-brain!!! (Yuck!!! I only just found that out!! The Diva does not do brains ?!!!)

Luckily, the Room-mate (flat-mate) and I have separate bathrooms.
Oh, the explosive sounds - pata-pata-pata- like a backfiring motorcycle. And then, the stench! I almost blacked out on the job!!

But I survived. Had to air my room after that but that was after I had sprayed like a can of air-freshner in there.
Finshed off the rest of the sleep in the sitting-room.

Note-to-self: Need to revise my rule-book.

Diva Rules for Clubbing #21: No more beer-parlor delicacies for me, ever!