Vom central

So Edinburgh is vom central, and Kincaid’s 4 Flat 10 is no exception. Barf capital of the world around here. Who knew.

There is just puke EVERYWHERE in this city. Literally everywhere. Every street corner, every stairwell, every nook and possibly every cranny. Thank God it rains constantly.

We have entertained a lot of possibilities as to what has caused this phenomenon (or should I say phenomevom), and have come to what I think is a valid and logical conclusion: being drunk here is not embarrassing. In America when one is extremely wasted, the natural response is to pretend you are not, in fact, wasted at all. Some of us even go so far as to try to have intense emotional conversations with one another, just to prove our own coherency. In Scotland, that’s just… not how it works. When Scottish people get drunk, they shout it from the rooftops (and often they shout it in my echoey stairwell.) Literally, from the hours of 10pm to 4am people become BANSHEES, singing in the streets and stumbling and barfing all over the beautiful castles that make up this city. No qualms. There is currently black vomit in my stairwell. Like WHAT DID YOU EAT.

In other news, here is my grocery list currently:

-precooked chicken

-malted milk balls

-pam

I am not fit to live on my own.


Oh also, a thing I've decided to bring here is "pound it." I haven't seen anyone here pound it, and I think it would be well received, especially given the monetary play on words.


Speaking of which, the other day Hope said "My groceries are so heavy I feel like they're 500 pounds," to which a random woman responded "How could they be 500 pounds all you have in there is bottled water and bread," and it made me really miss the good old US of A.