I am having my transplant in four and a quarter days… And so, I got drunk. You cannot judge; I have cancer. I drank alcohol. I got giggly, I danced around my room in a nightie three sizes too big and attempted to twerk, I dialled. I got drunk. It feels so familiar.
You cannot judge, I have cancer.
Anyway, must go to bed. The Boom Boom Brothers say wayo. My hips say so (privately).
You really are missing out on so much. Drunk Emma cannot be criticised. She has cancer.