Don't talk about your cramp

A whole three people ended up here from a website selling generic drugs in India, naturally. My audience knows no bounds. I'm getting the impression blogger is lying to me about my traffic. Last week, I scoured several viewers from a Baby Monitor supplier.

I hope you realise that I've torn myself away from Dream Zoo to be here. That's right. I could be hunting down a mate for my monkey, and finding them a nice grassy spot to build a home together. But instead I'm here with you. And I really hope that counts for something. Ginger Beard has now been sucked into my addiction. Nothing makes him happier than when I produce my phone, after accumulating 90,000 and he gets to plan a land expansion. On Sunday, we sat for two hours, and caressed our joint venture, proving that existing in a fictional world makes you happier than facing your real one.

ALSO

I have cramp. I went into Starbucks, to look for drinks with high salt, because my lovely fake Doctor prescribed this to me. A barista asked me if he could help.

Me: Yes, do you have anything with a lot of salt?
Him: Let me look with you.
Me: Thanks.

*Looking commences*

Him: A lot of these have no salt.
Me: Oh, no, I need as much salt as possible.
Him (alarmed, and everyone looks up): But why?

What could I say? I had to tell the truth.

Me: I have cramp.

Then, suddenly, everyone who works there is looking for things with salt in, and discussing my cramp. I panic. I realise now, that crisps were the obvious choice. I shoved a smoothie at someone, and tried to pay on my Starbucks card. My face has turned against me and burning red. Why? Fucking face, chill your beef! But no, I'm blushing all over the place.

I didn't have enough money. But I didn't hear the first time he told me, so suddenly I'm being shouted at.

Him: You're £1 short!!!

And everyone is like, look at that salt deficient, cramping poor person.

So I had to put like, £70 on the card to prove that I'm financially stable.

Really stressful, and really expensive.