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This semesters legal unit of choice is TORT LAW! Yay…

Ok, but really. First lesson up was all about that special little Snail in the Bottle, yeah. (Seriously, click that, you’ll shit yourself laughing.)

Now, I’ve studied that snail in that bottle so many times, I almost want to open a snail orphanage, for all those unwanted snails found in bottles… And I don’t know where this is going, it’s clearly not funny.

In other news, St Patricks Day is tomorow, and that means green hats and green beer and so much green, especially snot and puke, which is best in green… This is an incredbily important day… and I just told Matthew I was looking at Katie’s cock… I meant clock. Again, unsure why I am typing this, I have verbal diharroea and am epicly trying to procrastinate on reading up on Asian politics.

Oh yeah! So, let’s talk about something more fun. Specifically, Tesni, Alex and I went out on Saturday night to celebrate Katie’s birthday, despite the fact that Katie is ALL the way in Canadia-land…

BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN I CAN’T ONE AGAIN SUPERIMPOSE MYSELF POORLY (and Tesni and Alex) INTO SOME PHOTOS!

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This is where I spent most of my evening… Sorry Katie, food > you. 😛

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The happy couple reunited!

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Tesni moves so stealthy, notice how she snuck so subtly into this photo here?

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We’re all in this together… And something about nosesprays from my last HSM joke…

Man, how awesome that we could go ALL the way to Canadia just for Katie!

Until next time.

Ok, so I actually have way more lifely lessons than I realised! – as Jo has many of the photos we took overseas that I still need to get copies of!

For now, however, I can add a few more lifely lessons, and eventually ransack Jo’s laptop for the last of the photos for the rest of my lifely lesson!

5. Barcelona is a place of deadly, hip-swinging pasttimes.
Let us return to Barcelona, where the saftey concious locals don’t want you to get hurt by their mad hip-swiveling skillz, and thus warn you when you are coming across the underbelly of Barcelonian lifestyle: hula hoops!!!
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You have been warned!

6. How to scare the life out of Matthew 101.
Now, this one doesn’t have an accompanying photo, but is an important travel titbit nonetheless. No doubt everyone was taught, as a child, to LOOK BOTH WAYS when crossing the road. This is lesson I rarely feel the need to use in Perth, as a pedestrian (as a driver, I feel differently), as there are usually two lanes and I cross one at a time. Of course, I am predisposed to look left first, as this is how the laws of the road have always been in Australia. Of course, in Barcelona, I look left, failing to see an oncoming bus and almost becoming roadkill. And that, is how you scare the life out of Matthew 101. You are excused.

7. The French like to sexualise the most inappropriate things.
This is an add for my favourite French fizzy drink:
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‘Nuff said.

I actually once again have to cut myself off here, there is a uni event I must attend!

xoxo!

Going on big adventures like the one I just took across ye olde land of Europe, I was no doubt going to learn many life lessons. I am now going to share with you some of my new found Europeany-wisdom, so maybe you might become just as wise as I. Yeah, you heard it here first. Georgia = wise. So whatevs in ya face.

1. James is a far more skills tracker than previously believed.
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As you can see, depicted in the above photo, James (and his nomadic nomad vampire buddies) has snuck himself into my photo of the statue of Sidney Herbert. How insulting James! I was on holidays! Quite obviously, I am not in the mood for you to interrupt my baseball game in order to suck the humans blood, alright? You and me, in a room of mirrors, now, capice? Yeah, you better not stick yourself to the side of a bus ever again. (Man, I am so not very funny.)

2. Picking your nose has been taken to a whole new level in London:
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As you can see, by the nose stuck on the side of this gate wall thing that the Queen sometimes drives though, picking noses is a Londonish past time, and it should be taken quite seriously… Really though, why is there a nose stuck to the side of the wall? And more importantly, has it ever been caught eating its own boogies? Has the Queen herself ever picked the nose? Do tourists often go by the nose and attempt to pick it? Is it punishable by law to pick the nose? All these crucial questions to my existence, I MUST HAVE ANSWERS!!!

3. You can find comfort in the strangest places.
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This bathroom in Willi’s Wine Bar, Paris, happens to be an almost exact – albiet, dirtier – replica of my bathroom back home. There was one major error: the poster in Willi’s bathroom is actually in my kitchen, but close enough. I really took to this bathroom, I went like four times. I think I started to creep out the bar staff a bit when I wandered in there with my camera… I’d like to say my mother has fantastic, Parisien taste, but I happen to know for a fact that she visited Willi’s Wine Bar just over a year ago and probably stole the idea then… How sick. Lol.

4. This particular little delicacy promises a religious experience, when eaten.
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Apparently it’s very similar to having one of those epiphanical moments when you realise you’re supposed to dedicate your life to some truly selfless cause, like Tim Gunn showing ugly people how to dress better or Hugh Hefner sleeping with hot chicks to give hope to all guys out there, that it doesn’t matter if you’re a wrinkly old perv, there is a blonde out there dumb enough who WILL sleep with you… provided you have the moolah to pay for her every dumb blonde whim.
(and no, I’m not playing dumb tourist, that ACTUALLY translates to religious chocolate! so there!)

This is only four of many highly important life lessons that I lifely learnt upon my magical travels. However, I am super duper absolutely and utterly tired and I have to get up early tomorrow to do important things with important people.

Stay tuned for lessons in how to scare the life out of Matt, hula hooping laws in Barcelona, Parisian breasts, bears with sixpacks, how to sponser an underprivileged stone, what not to carve into stone, where to find the best pasta in Florence, how not to get sex in Paris, and finally: being hygenic, the Italian way.

So, excuse me whilst I catch some zzz’s.

plskthnx
xoxo
Georgia